Dead In The Water
by Scarlett Jane
Summary: Takes place after DitF. Eric discovers he has a long-lost daughter and goes off to search for her. Sookie feels Eric is in danger and, along with Pam and Bill, follows the trail to Sweden to rescue her Viking.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: This is my first fan fic. I'm writing this with the hopes that it will cure a debilitating case of writer's block I have over my novel. I hope you enjoy it.**__**Props to Ms. Harris, and thanks for the inspiration. I am humbly borrowing her characters.**_

Chapter One

I sat on my front porch swing, sipping iced tea and watching the fireflies dance around.

I'd worked the lunch shift at Merlotte's that day and it has been a busy one. My brother, Jason, brought the whole road crew in for burgers, and then an impromptu wedding reception filled the rest of the tables. The Baptist church flooded in the storm that the road crew was cleaning up after. Funny how things work out like that in small towns.

Anyway, it was a busy shift and tips were pretty good, so I can't complain. I do much better with busy than not busy, considering my handicap. It's hard keeping my shields up against all those stray thoughts, but once they're up they pretty much stay there until I tell them to switch off. When there aren't many people around and I'm a little bored, it's easy to forget. By the end of a busy day though, my brain is usually ready to melt.

My whole body ached by the time I dragged myself home around five, so I decided to just relax for a while. I changed into a pair of comfy sleep pants and a tank top and make a big batch of sweet tea. As I sat there on the swing, idling the minutes away, I found myself unable to keep my thoughts away from a certain vampire. This was happening a lot over the past few months. Every time I slowed down for more than a few hours, I just started day dreaming about brushing his hair or taking a shower with him or hearing him whisper in my ear. _My lover. _So I just never let myself relax.

Instead, I ended up taking lots of extra shifts at Merlotte's, and I helped out a lot with my friend Tara and her new twins. She was a little overwhelmed with her husband JD off taking training classes in Shreveport every day after work. He wanted to become a physical therapist, God bless his little heart. I love helping out with those little babies and smelling their heads and rocking them to sleep, but being around them so much just reminded me of how far away I was from my own goals in life.

I mean, let's face it - I love my job and I'm damn good at it, but I've never fooled myself into believing it's important or anything. I know I'm attractive enough and even if I could lose a little on the hips, I have it on good authority that plenty of men wouldn't mind taking me home. But crazy Sookie isn't wife material. I don't really have any friends anymore, now that I've got _Vamp Girl_ tattooed over my forehead. I had my brother, but Jason was practically engaged to his latest girlfriend, Michelle, and they still enjoyed their own company a little too much for me to just pop in. I saw Bill on occasion, if I went walking after sunset or if he came into the bar, but we still weren't very comfortable with our new friendship and our visits were always pretty short. How much can you honestly say to a man that you know still loves you but you're dating his boss? Awkward, to say the least.

Basically, I was all alone, which brings me back to my original problem.

There I was, swinging away, sitting where Gran had sat for so many years. I always did this when there was something bothering me - find a spot that used to be my Gran's and try to put my feet back on the ground. I knew she would've supported any decision I made, but she'd also have been the first one to remind me that one doesn't change her life sitting on a front porch swing. I needed to put my big girl panties back on and get a hold of myself, I knew that. I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself and just get on with life, as normal as it could be being a telepathic barmaid with a string of supernatural ex-boyfriends. But knowing it and doing it, I found, were two totally different problems.

I let out a sigh and sipped my iced tea. It was at that precise moment when the biggest problem of all pulled into my driveway.

Eric Northman's cherry red Corvette purred to a halt in front of me and my breathing got faster. My stomach lurched, but I tried to maintain my relaxed demeanor. I hadn't seen Eric in almost six months, and before that it had been another three. Saying that I was upset was an understatement. Yet as he stepped out of his car and I saw his face after so long, all those lusty, familiar feelings I had for him came pouring over me. I had almost forgotten how striking he was, with his long layers of golden hair and eyes the color of an ancient glacier. He was tall and very broad shouldered and it was easy to picture him in his original Viking furs and armor.

On that day, he was wearing skinny jeans and a black leather jacket, despite the fact that it was nearly seventy-five degrees. (Silly vampires and their low body temperatures.) His fingers hung in his belt loops as he slowly climbed the front porch steps.

"Hello, Sookie." His voice was quiet and low.

I took another sip of my tea and stared out at the front yard. "Mr. Northman."

"How have you been?"

My voice was cool. "Just fine."

He let out a long sigh and I could tell already that he was restraining himself. "I've missed you," he said after a moment.

"Well, I wouldn't know."

That wasn't true and we both knew it. I had felt his loneliness through our blood bond. Sometimes I was sad because he was feeling sad. Or I'd become incredibly angry for no reason, only to realize that it wasn't me feeling it at all. He got especially pissed off when I refused gifts, delivered by Pam of course. Yet every time I got so much as a glimmer of his real emotions, they'd get ripped away and replaced by the usual "_I'm busy, all is well"_ vibe that regularly got sent to me from his brain.

"Sookie, look at me." I sighed and reluctantly turned my eyes to his. "My absence was unavoidable. I apologize."

Now, I was willing to bet that Eric Northman could count on one hand the number of times he'd said those words together in a sentence. That fact wasn't lost on me, but at that moment, I didn't much care about his feelings.

"You apologize?" I repeated.

"It wasn't my intention to anger you."

I felt my cool melting as I slanted my eyes at him and screwed my mouth up into a pout. "Then what were your intentions? Because I thought we were done playing games."

"I have no desire to argue with you. That's not why I'm here."

"Why _are_ you here?" My words were sounding a bit more brutal than I really wanted them to.

"There are things happening that you need to be aware of," he said.

"I'm doing just fine here, Eric, so you can get back into your little car and drive away into the darkness again."

The muscles in his jaw flexed and he cleared his throat. (He looked so sexy when he did that. I had to get a hold of myself!) "This is going to be a long conversation if you're going to act childish."

"I'm not acting childish," I cried out. "You hurt me and I am damn well allowed to be upset about it. You left me again, Eric. There's no amount of diamonds or firewood or new hot water heaters that will make up for you not being here." He tried to speak but I held my hand up in protest and kept going. "And so you know, I am way past being angry. I just don't care anymore."

He leaned against the wooden pillar next to his shoulder and let one corner of his mouth curl up in a tiny, rueful smile. "You're still a terrible liar."

I sighed again. He was right, of course. I was an awful liar and I couldn't even look at him, especially when I thought of the flat screen television currently hanging in my bedroom. "Things change," I said.

"Not this. I would know."

I felt my throat tightening as I held back tears. "Then you know how miserable I've been. You feel it in your blood just like I do, Eric. Every time I let myself care about you, you up and disappear again."

He didn't say anything, which was strange. He was usually pretty amused by my tirades. Either that, or he got completely annoyed, but this time there wasn't a single emotion on his face. He just stood there, digging his hands into his pockets and looking kind of humble. Eric did not do humble. I could tell something was brewing, but I ignored my gut feeling and kept ranting.

"It's been six months! I know that's like a coffee break to you guys, but to me that's a long time. Not a phone call or a letter or even text message!"

"I know."

"Do you realize that I've seen Pam more over the past year than I've seen you?"

His eyes narrowed a bit and he stepped closer to me. "I have done everything in my power to ensure your safety and well being."

"Making Bubba or Bill sit in my woods all night long does not ensure my well being," I shouted at him. "Putting money in my bank account does not ensure my well being!"

In a blur of vampire speed, he was suddenly in front of me. I jumped and dropped my glass of tea. His face was inches away from mine as he hovered over me, his hands braced on the swing's armrests. "Do you doubt my feelings for you, woman?" he demanded, his voice nearly a hiss.

I slouched into the seat a bit - I couldn't help it. I'd been away from him for so long, I'd nearly forgotten what he was. I knew Eric would not hurt me, but he never hesitated in reminding me of his primal nature. I fought the urge to fear him as he glowered at me, the tips of his fangs just peeking out from under his lips. Gently touching his pale cheek, his gaze immediately softened, then his fangs retracted and he reached up to hold my hand against his skin.

"No, of course not," I said. "I don't expect barbeques and bowling dates, but I'm a girl, Eric. I need a little more than just a feeling from fifty miles away. I want to lay in bed with you and talk about our days and watch movies with you and-"

"Be human," he said begrudgingly.

I shrugged. "Maybe just sometimes. Is that such a terrible thing?"

"I am not human."

I scoffed. "Tell that to Buffy the vampire slayer."

I smiled and after a few seconds, he let one slide on too. I'd shared my life with Eric at a time when he was very vulnerable, and that included sharing my DVD collection. Hearing him laugh at the overly acted, covered with latex TV vampires was a priceless memory that I would never forget. His laughter had been loud and merry and just plain happy, and I would probably never hear it like that again.

He stood up to full height and paced away from me. "We will never have the relationship you desire, Sookie. I will never be a normal companion to you, not the way you desire to live your life."

"Yeah, well, I don't exactly have the market cornered on normal, in case you haven't noticed," I said. "And what do you mean, the way I desire to live my life?"

"You choose to stay here out here in the woods, leaving yourself in constant peril, when you-" He paused, shifting his eyes away from me and his voice changed, like he was trying to sound casual. "Have options."

"Such as?"

He stood up again and rolled his shoulders. "That is not a conversation I am willing to have with you right now."

I knew exactly what the was thinking about, I could feel it in his blood, and I'm not as stupid as people take me for. He was talking about me becoming his human companion. Like my cousin Hadley had been to Queen Sophie Anne, only less messed up and co-dependant I could only hope. He was right, that was not a conversation I wanted to have either.

"My distance keeps you safe," he said finally.

"But what if I need you and you're too far away?"

"Compton is here," he said, plainly annoyed by his own words.

I raised my eyebrows, genuinely surprised. He was actually going to trust Bill, the one that professed his undying love for me every other day? I was beginning to understand how helpless Eric was actually feeling, and it worried me.

Eric sensed my shock, quickly adding, "He is under strict instructions not to bother you, or try to take advantage of your emotional state. I told him I'd rip his fangs out if he so much as looked at you."

"Yeah, I think he got the point," I said under my breath. That would explain the weirdness from Bill alright.

"I have also discussed your safety with the shifter. He is aware of the situation."

"Oh, Eric," I sighed. "I don't want Sam knowing my business. I cause him enough trouble as it is."

"Merlotte is more than capable of taking care of himself, and as much as it pains me to admit it, he has proved valuable in the past."

"I'm not comfortable getting Sam involved with my private life. It's...complicated with him." I had no problem saying this to him, because Eric was well aware of Sam's feelings for me, yet wasn't threatened in the least. (Stupid Viking ego.) I reminded myself every day that Sam was as good a friend as I had, but the way he looked at me was just too much sometimes. There were many nights that I had to drag myself away from that bar, knowing Sam was in there alone. Feeling the way I was feeling.

"I don't like it," he said. "But he would give his life to save yours, and that is what I must trust."

"So what, I'm under house arrest now? Is that what you're saying?"

"Would you listen?" he asked, charging back toward me. "Or would you do exactly the opposite and endanger your life without hesitation?"

"I can take care of myself, Eric," I snapped. "I will not have every supe in Renard parish lookin' out for me."

"Then you are foolish as well as you are impatient."

This was the point when I usually got flaming mad at him, when he tried to control my life and started acting all condescending and mean. But I just wasn't in the mood for it, especially being physically drained from work. I tried to wiggle past him, but he just pushed me back into the swing and held me by the arms.

"Sookie, you still fail to realize that your life is in constant danger. This isn't something you can change your mind about and back out of. You're a part of me now, and with that comes obligation."

"Obligation to who?"

"To the laws that bind my kind and have done so for thousands of years. One hotheaded telepath from Bon Temps is not going to change that."

"What about an obligation to each other?" I asked, my voice a little more gentle.

Eric just looked at me, his eyes going glassy and unfocused. He seemed speechless. Again, another first. He titled his head to the side and let out an enormous sigh. Suddenly, he looked weary and defeated and, well, very human. His shoulders sagged and he flopped himself onto the wooden swing right next to me. I wanted him to put his arm around me and cuddle me like a boyfriend sitting on a porch swing should do, but he didn't , and I could hardly be mad at him for that. He'd never been much of a snuggler, except for after sex.

Then I thought again of those few weeks when I had him all to myself, when he had lost his memory and had been the best boyfriend I could've ever wished for. He was a kind and almost gentle thing, and he let me take care of him. He wasn't possesive, unless he was trying to save my life, and he was one hell of a lover. (Well, that last one still applied.) He didn't know who he was, and he barely knew who I was, but I often wished that I could somehow mush a little of that Eric together with the Eric that I was apparently bound to for the rest of my life.

"My weakness for you has become common knowledge amongst my enemies. It puts my entire area in jeopardy," he said after a few quiet minutes. "I will not stand by and watch them destroy all that I have worked for."

I nodded distantly, not wanting to argue anymore. Telling a vampire how to run his business was like yelling in the library - you get lots of dirty looks and they mostly tell you to shut up. I knew I had started out in Eric's life as a business asset and I still was one. Usually I didn't mind that much, because working for him made me an ass-load of money. But lately, it was getting hard to see the line between girlfriend and telepath for hire.

"Still though," he continued, "I would give up all of it for you." He looked down at me with a critical glance, but his voice was gentle.

I looked at him with doe eyes. I couldn't help it - I was completely shocked. "You would?"

"I would rip Philip DeCastro to pieces myself if it meant ensuring your safety."

"They'll kill you," I said quickly. I didn't doubt his words, because if Eric was anything, he was honest with me. (He learned his lesson in Dallas.) "Or put you in silver."

"I'd like to see them try."

I felt the tears finally falling over onto my cheeks, and I instantly regretted all of the nasty things had been thinking over the past few months. "Eric..."

"Oh, don't start that," he said, rolling his eyes. He caught the tears from my face and licked them from his fingertip.

"Hush, I can't help it. Everything is just so fucked up."

"Trust me, it could be worse."

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you because of me," I blubbered like a fool, sniffling my already runny nose.

Eric turned to me and put his hands on either side of my head, so I had nowhere to look but into his eyes. "Listen to me, Sookie. It has taken me a long time to reconcile with these feelings I have for you. It makes no sense that after a thousand years, my life could be so completely changed by a mortal whose own life will be over in the blink of an eye. But this is what the gods have intended for me, and I am not going to turn my back on that. I know now that the urge I feel to protect you comes from my heart, not from the mouth of some bureaucrat."

That was about as many words as I had ever heard Eric say at once.

He put his arm around me and the tears really started. I nestled myself under his jacket and buried my head against his cool, sculpted chest. Something was about to happen, I could sense it brewing in his blood. Tension was building around us and I knew he was hiding something from me. I wept against his soft cotton tee shirt and just waited.

He leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on the side of my forehead, and I could hear him slowly inhaling the scent of my hair. His cool lips felt good against my skin - I always got so flushed and sweaty when I cried.

"I wish things could be different," he whispered against my temple. "I wish it because it is what you desire most. This is not the life you deserve."

"I wouldn't dare change my life," I said. "Every second of it will lead up to me and you being together some day."

"You risk your life by choosing to be with me. The future you imagine may never-"

"Shut up, Eric," I declared and his features immediately darkened. "First of all, I get it, ok? You don't have to spell it out every time we see each other. My life is in danger, I know it. I know when Bill or Bubba is fighting off someone or something out there. I'm awake half the time and I can probably hear all those creeps talkin' in their heads before those other two ever do. "

"Then I will find others to stand guard. Incompetent fools," he grumbled.

"No, they're doin' fine," I said with a frustrated sigh. "You're missing the point. I'm gonna tell you this now so I don't ever have to repeat myself again. The day I started dating a vampire is the day I decided to start living a little dangerously. I don't hold you responsible for anything that will or has happened to me. I wake up every day and make my own decisions, thank you very much. Second of all, I choose to be with you because I would rather live dangerously than without you at all. You think you're the only one that's done some soul searching over the past few months? If risking my life and occasionally ending up in the hospital is what it takes, then that's what it takes."

He sat quietly for a few minutes and barely moved, which is not uncommon for him, but I felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for a response. Finally he said, "That is a high cost to pay, for anyone."

"And you wouldn't do the same for me?"

His chest puffed up in an instant and he looked at me like the warrior he truly was. "I have sworn to protect you at any cost, you know this."

"Of course I do." My hands went to his chest like they had a mind of their own and caressed his muscles through the thin fabric. I felt a smile curling onto my lips. No matter how serious things got between us, it still made my heart flutter when he said things like that. It used to infuriate me when he'd say things like _you are mine_, but oh, how things had changed.

"Now you have to admit that your life has been far less than ordinary since you met me. You know, as ordinary as your life could be, bein' the owner of a vampire bar and a sheriff and all."

I saw a glint of a smile from him as well now. "Trouble does have a way of seeking you out."

"Exactly. My whole life has been drama, so something was bound to happen to me, with or without you. Being a telepathic fairy princess has its quirks, no vampires necessary."

His hand slid around my waist under my shirt and he sighed. "You make it very hard to disagree with you, lover."

I shrugged as I started up into his bottomless eyes. "I do my best."

We just sat there for a while, swinging like we were made to do it. Like we were courting and Gran was inside, peepin' out the front window. I started thinking about how different my life would be if Bill Compton had never walked into Merlotte's that night. Would Claudine have popped up eventually on her own, or maybe Naill himself? Would my great-grandfather have ever made his presence known to me if he didn't have Eric's word to protect me? Would Eric have found his way into my life on his own, somehow, or would I have been destined to swing alone?

"How long this time?" I asked finally, no longer able to wait for the inevitable truth.

"Another year, maybe more," he replied, his voice full of regret. "Just long enough for them to all lose interest in you."

"And what if they don't?"

"Oh, they will. If there's one thing you can count on, it's a vampire wanting what they can't have. As soon as they think I'm done with you, they'll move on to the next human amusement." He nudged me, adding, "Maybe I'll try to go find a waitress with X-ray vision."

I giggled and swatted at his leg. His sense of humor always had a funny way of popping up when I least expected it to. "Quit playin', Eric. I don't know how I'll do another whole year of this."

"You will do it because you must," he said. "You have a vast amount of determination within you, Sookie. You need only to believe in yourself."

"And then we'll be together, for real?"

I looked up at him, tears and snot streaked down to my neck, but I just didn't care. We'd seen each other at so many other levels worse than this. There was steely determination on his face as he lifted my chin with two fingers and stared deeply into my eyes.

"Wife, I vow to you, we will be together. We are bound to each other. Whether it be in this realm or in the next, we will be together."

He pressed his lips to mine and I felt it down to my toes. Just being next to him and hearing his voice made me feel relief. Anger be damned. After so many months of trying to remember how it felt when he ran his fingers through my hair, or how he smelled after flying through a smoky night sky, it was all coming back to me in an instant.

There was so much about him that only I got to see, and I know it's silly, but it made me feel special. He was keeping the best parts of himself just for me. He liked to snuggle and whisper war stories after we made love, and I knew he actually had a kind streak a mile wide left somewhere in his heart. He hid it away, like someone else would stash a pack of cigarettes or a fifth of whiskey, or any other nasty habit. And trust me, it was so easy to forget it was even there when he was at his usual snarky, self-serving best. But it was there, and I suspected that it was left over from his human days. After a thousand years, he'd hardened on the outside, but his heart was still good and pure.

And yes, I knew he was right - I would wait for him. Not because I'm the type of girl to wait around for a guy, but because I couldn't imagine my life without him. He'd become my savior and my best friend. I was reluctant at first, I admit, but he was the only person in the whole world that I felt comfortable being my true crazy self in front of. I didn't have to hide anything from him. Keeping up appearances was such a human thing to do, and I was so over trying to fit in as a normal person.

I put my hand behind his neck and pulled him closer to me as his kiss grew deeper. I felt his fangs slide down against my tongue and gasped when they hooked onto my bottom lip. The instant my blood flowed, he took a quick breath and pulled away. He licked the blood off his fangs and he was suddenly looking at me like a hungry animal. Apparently, he'd forgotten a few things too.

"You're mine tonight," he said roughly, pulling me onto his lap and running his thumb down the blue vein on the side of my neck.

I sucked my lip and smiled as I felt him get hard against my thighs. "Oh no, don't you try to glamour me, Eric Northman."

He chuckled and I was suddenly in the air, held in his arms like a sack of feathers. "I can't persuade _you, _Miss Sackhouse. You're quite impervious to my charms, remember?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and he kissed me savagely, his fangs just barely piercing my neck over and over again, only to be healed an instant later by his lips and tongue. He walked blindly into my house, nipping at my ear lobe as he whispered, "You'll come to me of your own free will, lover. And you'll come again and again and again."

We made it as far as the living room floor before he'd ripped off my shirt and sleep pants. He was nearly naked before I blinked and he didn't bother with the preliminaries. He was in me and I was screaming, clawing at his back and shoulders. It was quick and desperate, just like it should have been for two people that hadn't touched each other for so long. He pinned my arms over my head and held steady.

"Say it," he grunted. I turned my head to the side and cried out, barely able to breathe, and he slammed into me harder. "Say it, Sookie."

I looked up at him, panting and flushed. I felt it building between both of us, then he reached down with one hand and slid his fingers to the exact spot that would make me do or say anything. "I'm yours," I sighed and then I groaned. "I'm yours."

"Forever, lover." His fangs slid out.

"Forever."

He leaned down and bit my breast, sucking hard as we both climaxed. I felt a sting of delicious pain and then I cried out with relief and giggles and joy as it swirled into pleasure throughout my entire body. Just as I was ready to fall back against the braided rug and pass out for a few minutes, I was once again scooped up in Eric's arms.

He carried me upstairs and threw me onto my bed. And I did come to him, again and again and again.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: I know this is a long one, but I feel Eric's back story is very important to the plot. Knowing a little Viking history will help the story later down the road. Happy Reading!**_

Chapter Two

Eric and I laid in my bed sometime time later. Twisted up between the sheets, our hair was mingled in a messy blonde pile on my pillows. We weren't saying much, just laying there and reveling in the feeling of our bodies being pressed together. Most of the time we would've been laughing or sharing secrets in soft voices, but the sun would be rising soon. We both just laid there, silently listening to the seconds tick away on my wind-up alarm clock.

I nestled my back against his chest and rested my head on his thick bicep. I loved feeling his muscles flex against my face as he moved around. I know that might sound weird, but to me, it was a little reminder of just how alive Eric really was. He could go for hours without batting an eyelash, and he didn't breathe, not really. It happened as a reflex sometimes, when he was super mad or when he was excited. He sighed when he was frustrated, but I think it was just a left over human habit.

His other arm was resting on my hip, his fingers absently running over the pink, dimpled skin where my worst scar still left its mark. The teeth marks had long faded, but the chunk of flesh that the fairy had ripped out of my leg was stubborn to fill in on its own. I'd drank way too much of Eric's blood for a while after it happened, just to keep myself alive. When I started getting shiny and pale, I decided to get off the stuff and let my body mend itself the best way it could.

Feeling him touch the spot reminded me of how far I'd come since that night. For months, I wouldn't let anyone touch me, not even Eric. Then, after that I felt no sensation or pleasure when he touched me. He didn't take it personally though, bless his heart, and he kept at it until I finally got that old lovin' feeling back. I don't think he minded the effort so much.

"You would've made an excellent Viking," he mused out loud, his fingers dancing in circles on my damaged skin. "You wear your scars with pride."

I smiled to myself. "You're the only one that sees it, silly."

"Of course I am," he said, his tone playfully possesive. He flipped me over and kissed my neck and I sighed, twirling his hair in my fingers.

"Did the women have scars too?" I asked.

"Many of the women I knew had scars, but few were from battles like yours."

"Tell me about it," I said, more like a question. I often wondered about what he'd been like as a human. All I had ever really gotten out of him were tidbits of information, then he always seemed to change the subject. This time though, with another separation looming ahead of us, maybe I'd get lucky.

"What would you like to know?"

"Well," I drawled with a big smile, "did ya'll really wear those helmets with the horns stickin' out of them?"

He laughed and his chest rumbled. "Defiantly not, but I think my grandfather had one. I remember him drinking mead out of it when I was a child." He pushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear as he continued. "Just metal helmets. We mostly used spears and axes. Wealthy men had broad swords. We each had to make our own chainmail suit to prove that we were ready to become a warrior. And you never went into battle without your shield."

My eyebrows went up. "Like the one hanging in your office?"

"Yes, that was one of my battle shields."

"Did you kill many people?" That was a ridiculous question, considering his current profession, but I asked anyway.

"Yes, " he admitted, "but not for sport, and only when I had no other choice. History reflects such a skewed image of Vikings today."

"So what were you really like?"

"We were survivors. We made the best of what we had, which was usually more than enough in the case of my family. I came from a long line of very confident rulers. "

"Oh, so it's in your blood. Here, I just thought it was a vampire thing."

He eyed me and poked me softly in the stomach, but he continued. "Now, if a chief was smart, he could sustain his clan with a little farming and hunting, and not have to go raiding that often at all. We used our boats for fishing mostly, not battle. When our land was being threatened or if a bad winter was coming, that's when we went Viking. You fought to keep your family alive and your land protected. You had to be willing to do anything. You stayed alive to fight another day. That was the honor of my people."

I smiled at how proud he suddenly looked. His eyes were alive, like a little fire had been lit behind each pupil. He was exhilarated, which was an emotion I rarely felt from him unless he was killing someone. I tried to ignore how messed up that thought process was. "Sounds exciting," I said.

"Depends on which end of the sword you were on," he replied. He must've sensed my amusement, because he chuckled a little and shook his head. "I admit, I have been weighed down by memories of my past lately."

"How come?"

"Because of you."

"Me?"

He looked at me for a long moment, like he was staring through me and not at me. "You stir things up in me."

I smiled and batted my eyelashes. "Well, I certainly didn't mean to."

"Ha." He leaned down and licked my neck, gently sucking a little spot until I sighed. "You know exactly what you do. It's part of your weapon against me."

I tugged on his hair and said, "Hey, don't try to distract me. What're you talkin' about?"

He sighed as I settled my body closer against him, so he couldn't nip at me again. He was quiet for a minute, then he shrugged. "Being with you makes me remember what it was like to be human."

"That's a good thing."

"That is decidedly not a good thing."

"Because you can't be a badass vampire sheriff while you're holding my purse at the mall."

"No, Sookie, that has nothing to do with it. I am not ashamed of our relationship. But you want things that I will never be able to give you."

I heaved out my breath and tried to turn away. "Don't start all that regretful talking, Eric."

"You want to have a normal life," he said, pulling my face back toward him.

"I'll never be normal, " I said, my voice on the verge of being snappy. "Being with you and not hearing your thoughts all day long is as close to normal as I'm ever gonna get. And what's the deal anyway? Most of the time I can barely get you to say _I love you _and now you're being all crazy sentimental."

"It has occurred to me that our situation is not ideal for you."

It sounded like Pam was probably making him read _Cosmo_ again. I propped myself up on my elbow and tried not to sound too hotheaded. "Well, Eric, being forced to stay away from my boyfriend isn't ideal, you're right. And I'm not always gonna look like this if you wait a year between visits."

"That's exactly my point, Sookie. I can give you anything in the world, but nothing that truly matters, or nothing you would accept."

Nothing I would accept.

I let out a long, deep sigh as the words hung between us. This was the subject that we were always dancing around, the subject that we were always on the verge of bringing up, but never actually did. He never said, _"I can't give you babies but I can give you eternal life." _Yet at that moment, in my bedroom, that's precisely what we were both thinking. There were times, mostly when we were making love and our bodies were connected, that I could feel our thoughts flowing exactly the same. Like a little invisible cord was holding us together, and it was holding us together right then.

So I ignored the vampire elephant sitting in the corner of the room and changed the subject, again. I kissed him because it was easier than talking. The tension between us eased in an instant but I knew he was giving in to me. "Tell me about your family," I said.

He glanced down at me disapprovingly, because he understood my intentions perfectly. But after a moment, he said, "Well, I had three wives."

I rolled my eyes, but smiled tolerantly. "Of course you did."

"Svana was my first wife. Our marriage was arranged by our parents when we were children, so we married very young. We lived together with my family until I we had our first child, a male heir."

"Ya'll lived in the same house?"

"We all lived in the same room," he corrected. "Viking homes were very primitive compared to today's standards. It was one long hall with a fireplace on both ends. My parents had their own sleeping area, but the rest of us had beds out among the tables and benches. Our home was bigger and had better amenities because my father was chieftain, but was hardly a palace. A few years later, my father made a deal with a neighboring chief and I was made to marry my second wife, Astrid."

"Was that typical, to have more than one wife?"

"Why, do you have someone in mind?"

I swatted at his shoulder. "Shut up. I mean, didn't that upset Svana?"

"At first, but a plague swept over our land soon after that and Astrid's parents both died. I acquired her family's land and fortune and her younger sister came to live with us as well. I married her when she was only fifteen, at Astrid's request, so she couldn't be betrothed to anyone else. Suddenly, I had an entire family to care for. I built my own house and was next in line to be chieftain."

"Did you love them?"

"In their own way, but it wasn't always easy. They were each very different women, and Svana's jealousy was often hard to bear. Especially after the sisters each bore me a set of twins."

"Two sets?" I asked.

"It ran in their family I suppose," he said with a shrug. "I had eleven children in all by the time I was 28."

"Is that how old you are?" I really jumped on that one because I had often wondered and, of course, he had never volunteered such personal information.

"That's how old I was," he said, his voice flat.

I loved him so much at that moment and I touched his cheek with my hand. It was hard for others to see his humanity, but I saw it all the time, especially during moments like that, when he did something strikingly human, or said something that made my heart ache for him.

Part of the story I knew already, like that Eric's family had ruled part of what is now Sweden. His village had been on the coast of the North Sea. He'd told me a story once about him and his father and two brothers going fishing and he'd saved his youngest brother from drowning. Eric had been the oldest and I think he would've made a good chief, if he'd ever gotten the chance.

I also knew about his maker, Ocella. I'd met him not to long ago and I can honestly say I was shocked that Eric could've come from someone so weird and mean. He was a terrible man with a weakness for young boys, and I'm not sorry in the least that it was my Uncle Dermot that staked him and freed Eric.

Talking about their makers was a sore subject with many vampires, I'd learned that the hard way. I'd never outright asked Eric about it, especially after meeting Ocella and feeling how his presence affected Eric. But I was curious and I had a feeling this was a story he was never going to share with me unless I requested it.

"What happened?" I asked gently.

"Why do you want to know?" His voice was serious, but not angry or anything. Just honest.

"Because it's part of who you are, Eric," I explained. "It's like when I tell people my parents died when I was a kid, and they get all sad for me 'cause was an orphan or whatever. But I tell them that living with Gran made me the person I am today and I wouldn't change that for anything. My Gran was understanding of who I was and she accepted it. My parents were scared of it."

"Sookie, these are both sets of circumstances that neither one of us could've stopped. Our lives could've gone down completely different paths."

I shrugged. "But they didn't."

He stared at me for a moment, then impatiently sighed, but I wasn't willing to give up so easily this time. "If _he_ hadn't made the choice to change you that night, then we would not be here together, and that is a fact."

It seemed like he was thinking about it, or maybe he was preparing himself to tell me something he'd never told anyone else before. But then he began. "We got word of a Roman regiment coming from the south. My father had a council with the other chiefs in the area and they decided I would lead a group of warriors to go...discourage them from getting any closer. I said good-bye to my family with every intention of seeing them again. I was young , foolish. I barely made an event out of it, I said no kind words. I did not say a prayer to Odin. I just gathered my men and we left."

"Who's Odin?"

He smiled at me like I was a child (he did that a lot, very irritating) and kissed me lightly on the forehead. "There's so much I haven't told you. You believe in Heaven and God, don't you?"

"Of course," I said quickly.

"Well, Viking religion is quite different from your Christianity, and those approaching Romans threatened that. According to our legends, when a warrior dies in battle, he goes to a place called Valhalla."

"I've heard of that."

"It's a commonly misused word today. According to Viking tradition, Valhalla is a magnificent hall - it's size and beauty is beyond anything in our realm. It rests in the center of Asgard, that's like Viking heaven. When a warrior's soul leaves his body, the Valkaries come and bring him to Odin, who resides in Valhalla with many of the other gods."

"What's the Valkaries?"

"Valkaries are beautiful maidens sent down to the human realm to pick warriors to go with them to Asgard."

"Like an angel."

"I suppose," he smiled. "They are like angels. They have wings anyway, and they are very kind-hearted. They carry the dead warriors' souls with them back to Valhalla. Now, if you've lived an honorable life and died well, then Odin invites you to join in the fray. Every day, warriors in Valhalla fight the greatest battle of their lives, and they feast and drink, and then they wake up and do it again the next day. For all eternity."

My visions of sitting on a cloud, sporting a pair of wings and strumming a harp went away in a flash, and I suddenly understood more about Eric than I thought I ever would. Every battle he fought, every enemy he confronted, he wasn't just staring death in the eye - he was missing out on another chance to go to his heaven. He had missed his chance over and over again, for a thousand years. The Fellowship of the Sun was a bunch of damn fools if they could still think vampires had no souls.

"It took us a week to find them, but they knew we were coming. We were ambushed in the middle of the night after we'd sent up camp. It'd been my decision to stow the boats and continue on foot. We were going to raid them just before dawn, but they got to us first. I lost half of my men before I even knew what was happening. They were silent, like creeping animals, slitting throats tent by tent. We were expecting a battle, not cowardice. So many died that by the time we were able to arm and fight back, we were surrounded. That's when he came to me."

"Ocella?" I asked, like I was whispering in church_._

He nodded, barely. "He said he'd spare the rest of my men if I went with him. This, however, is not the nature of my people. The Romans were stronger than us and better armed, but we continued to fight until there was no one left except me. I stood there, staring at them in their matching armor and gleaming eyes, and I was the first time in my life that I felt true fear."

"Wait," I gasped. "They were all...vamps?"

"Every last one of them. Ocella was their captain. He compelled me and then ordered his men to burn our camp. He took me back to their boats and that was my last human memory."

"But why? Why you?"

"To conquer me."

His answer was simple, but his words were filled with pain. I almost couldn't bear to hear anymore, and I felt guilty for even bringing it up. How do you show sympathy for something that happened a thousand years ago? Eric had stayed with his maker for centuries and they had a funny relationship, you know, like I had a funny uncle. I could understand the sickly feeling you get in your stomach when you remember something that caused you so much pain, you try not to think about it all. Eric had been conflicted for years about his connection with Ocella. He loved him I think, as all progeny come to love their makers, whether by force or by choice. But he feared Ocella, and that was definitely not something Eric responded well to.

Those few weeks that Ocella had been around, Eric was like a different person. Gone was his usual confidence and sultry attitude. He'd kept his eyes lowered and his voice quiet, submissive-like. Now I know that Eric can command Pam to do something any second of the night because he's her maker and that's the way it works, but it was different with Ocella. Pam shows Eric respect, but Ocella demanded it. Ocella was the one person that could truly command Eric to do anything, and that put all of us in danger. Especially me.

"My brother, Neils, took possession of my land and family after my death. He was next in line to be chief until my eldest son became of age. And life went on."

I felt tears burning in my eyes, but I knew that it wasn't just my own sadness I was feeling. I pictured Eric with a brood of little blonde Viking babies running around his feet and it made my heart hurt. "That's just awful," I sniffed.

"That's the way of my people, Sookie," he said, almost defensively. "My brother was an honorable man and someone needed to care for them."

"Did you, you know, go check on them?"

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Ocella forbid it. He kept me away from that whole part of the world for centuries. And I couldn't exactly just walk into my village - they would've thought I was a demon, or that a curse had been put on the clan."

"So you don't know what happened to any of them?"

"I didn't say that," he replied. "My eldest, Ericsson, became chieftain after my brother died, and then nine sons after him as well - this I know from historical records still kept in the town where my village once stood. Other than that, it's difficult to be certain, but I've done some research over the years. It appears that all of my children, except for two, married and lead perfectly ordinary lives."

"And the other two?"

"Twins, a boy and a girl," he said with a wistful smile on his face. "The youngest of the group. They were only babes when I left. The boy, Gunnar, died when he was twelve."

"Oh." I put my hand on his arm softly.

"This was a common thing back then, lover," he said, patting my hand in return. "Many children died of diseases that are easily prevented today. Three died during birth, and I almost lost Svana during one birthing. She was lucky to live after her fever, though the child did not."

"What about the girl?"

His eyes darkened and I felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. "Freyja," he said somberly. "Named for my mother, and the goddess of love. She . . . disappeared from her bed a week after the death of her brother."

"Disappeared?" I gasped. "What happened?"

"No one ever knew. By the time Ocella had finally released me, it was of course too late to search for her, but I went anyway. Almost three hundred years had passed, but I was still able to find my kin. They didn't know who I was, but they knew of the chief named Eric whose daughter went missing. The story had become like a myth in the village. I could never tell what was real or what was just spun from fantasy."

"What did they say?"

"That she had wandered out of the home in her sleep , looking for her brother, and was drowned in the sea. She supposedly still haunts the village to this day, eternally searching for her long lost twin."

"Creepy."

"Very. The modern town is very in touch with its Viking heritage. They have a museum with artifacts that actually belonged to my kin. The story of little lost Freyja is part of their history, yet everyone in town has a different version to tell. Some say she's wearing a night dress, some say she's braiding her hair. You have no idea how unnerving it is to hear people talking about your own daughter like she's a fictional character, made up for their amusement."

I sighed and rubbed my hand across his cool chest. I didn't know what to say. I mean, honestly, what could I possibly say to make him feel better? I thought about how I felt after Gran died, and how people said all sorts of things because I guess they thought they were helping me. But really, all the comments and hugs only made me feel worse. I was just about to pull him closer to me, to offer the only thing that I knew would make him feel better, when he put his hand up between us.

"There's more," he said. _Jesus Christ, shepherd of Judea. _"There's another story I was told. Only a few people in each generation will ever share it, but the details are always exactly the same. They speak of a girl with cold skin, who never grows old."

A second passed as his words sunk into my brain, then I gasped. "Oh, Eric, no. Is it even possible?"

"I don't know, anything is possible. I've been back to that village a hundred times and I've never smelled or sensed another vampire anywhere in the area. Yet the story lives on."

"Did you ask Ocella about it?"

"Once," he replied grimly. "He denied it and then beat me to within an inch of my second death."

I guess little girls didn't do it for him. "It's just too much of a coincidence," I said.

He looked me square in the eye. "I agree."

I knew better than to ask him why he hadn't told me earlier, I was lucky he told me at all. A vampire daughter, I mean a real blood daughter. Well, that sort of made me a step mom, now didn't it? She was bound to show up sooner or later, they always do. They make Lifetime movies about it all the time. The words were just sitting on my tongue, ready to fly out. I decided to keep my mouth shut though. Eric would consider this a weakness, and we had already pointed out enough of those.

I felt that same lonely and regretful feeling coming from him and I pulled him closer to my chest. He rested his head against me and I sighed. I had always assumed that he'd been thinking about me when I got those feelings from him, but I quickly understood that there were greater emotions at work. How difficult it must have been for him - running a thriving business, dealing with Victor and DeCastro, and at the same time, trying to be the tough guy sheriff of Area Five. All the while, he was grieving for a child that he'd never even known.

"Don't feel pity for me, Sookie," he said quickly, but I couldn't help smoothing his hair a bit. "If she is...out there, then I am hardly of any concern to her. Her father died a thousand years ago."

"But you're not dead."

"I am to her."

There was a tone of finality in his voice and I knew we were done talking about it. And I knew that he'd be leaving soon - I could feel the dawn approaching. It's a weird talent I sort of acquired once I'd drank some vamp blood. I didn't want our final moments together to be sour ones.

"I almost forget something," he said suddenly, his head popping up with a brilliant smile. "I have a present for you." He was out of bed and getting dressed before the sheets had even settled around me. "Come downstairs, lover."

"No more gifts," I grumbled as I climbed out of my warm spot.

He kissed me on the forehead as he pulled his leather jacket up over his shoulders. "But you have to keep this one. She didn't come with a receipt."

My eyebrows went sky high. "She?"

It was his turn to change the subject, so I just wrapped up in an afghan and followed him downstairs. By the time I had managed to find my panties and slip back into my clothes, he was already out the front door. He made me stay on the porch while he went to his car. Now, watching 6'4" Eric folding in half to fit into his beloved Corvette was enough to make me snicker any day. I saw him bang his head on the door frame once, when he was pissed off at Pam, and I nearly fell over laughing. But now he was crawling around floorboard with his legs sticking out into the driveway, mumbling what I could only guess were Viking obscenities. I laughed, nearly peed my pants, because I needed a good laugh. He poked his head up for a second, displeasure smeared all over his face, so I put my hand over my mouth and looked the other way.

Eric was standing in front of me when I looked back, holding a squirming ball of grey and white fur.

"You got me a cat?" I cried.

"Think of her as a companion while I'm gone," he replied, holding the creature out to me.

I smiled indulgently as I took the cat from his arms. It was soft, like a rabbit, and it's green eyes looked up at me with unmistakable intelligence. "She's adorable," I said as it went ahead and made a home on my shoulder. "But I'm not so sure about this."

The last cat I'd had, Tina, had been murdered along with my Gran by a psychotic nut job who'd killed a bunch of fang bangers. Not a great memory to conjure up, my dead cat, laying dead on the hallway runner. Whenever I thought of Tina, I thought of Gran. I'd found her in the kitchen a few days later in a similar state.

"You must accept her, Sookie," Eric simply said. "She's special and her place is her with you."

"Special like how?"

"She has been trained to be loyal to only you."

I scoffed. "Yeah, as long as I feed her."

"No, as long as she lives. She will protect you. She can smell your blood from a mile away and can sense your emotions. She'll know if you are in danger."

My body froze as I felt her nuzzle closer to my neck. "Is she a vampire cat?"

He smiled at me like I was simple. (But I thought it was a very relevant question.) "No, she isn't, but she has been trained to scent out your blood since the day she was born. I arranged her training while I was in Sweden a few months ago."

I wondered how he'd gotten my blood, but I'd spilled blood over half the state by that point, so I guess it wasn't that important. I also tried to ignore the Sweden comment, but that nagging feeling was sitting on my tongue again. A normal boy friend would tell his girl when he was going on a trip, let alone one that required a passport. Again, that was a very human reaction to put on a vampire's conscience, but darn it - I was human after all, mostly. I felt distance come and go between us as the months had droned on, but Eric was not my master. I couldn't ever pinpoint his location, I didn't think so at least.

I knew he felt my anger, or whatever it was I was feeling, so I left it alone. I snuggled the little cat perched on my arm, already falling in love with the rhythmic sound of her purrs.

"She's a direct descendant of the cats my family used to breed. We kept them on our ships and in our homes to hunt vermin. Today, they are called Norwegian forest cats," he said, fondly giving the top of her head a scratch. "Her name is Elsa."

"You named her?"

"You're welcome to call her whatever you want, she's yours. She's been living at the club for the past few weeks - Elsa just seemed to fit her, although Pam was happy to call her goddamned fur ball."

I chuckled. That sounded about right. "Does that mean ol' Pam not like you?" I cooed to Elsa.

"Pam has been unhappy with her presence, to say the very least," he replied, a tiny smile on his lips. "But she will always be recognized and allowed entry by the cat, as will Compton and Bubba."

I wondered what, exactly, this little creature I was holding was capable of. "What about everyone else?"

He shrugged, smiling like a fiend. "We shall see. I am particularly interested to see what happens when the shifter shows up."

I ignored the comment, but made a mental note to give Sam the heads up at work the next day. "Why Elsa?" I asked.

"It was the name of my youngest wife."

"The twins' mother?"

"Yes. She was reckless and petulant, not unlike yourself," he said, inclining his head toward me. "I find myself being reminded of her when I am with you at times." _Um, okay_ . . . "She was my friend, more than anything else. I grieved her more than the others when I was turned."

Now, I know that this was the trust big time, considering who the info was coming from, but I was still a tad unsettled about this. Yes, it was a thousand years ago, and yes, we all have our types that we're attracted to. But this was the kind of stuff they made bad ghost movies about. Talk about Lifetime.

He must've sensed my hesitation, or weirded-out-ness, because he pouted. He actually pouted at me, or his version of a chiseled, GQ photo shoot pout. He gently rubbed the cat under her little white chin and said, "Sookie, it would mean a great deal to me if you kept her."

My cheeks burned and I felt very childish. I'd turned away a lot of gifts, and I'd never stopped to think about any of them. It was, however, a practical concern about the cat. I could barely take care of myself lately - between the fairy war, vampire spies, and weres being buried in my woods. My home wasn't the safest place for any creature, feline or otherwise.

"Alright," I sighed. "But she's gonna have to learn how to handle herself around here."

He smiled as Elsa swatted her furry paw at his offending hand. "I think she'll be able to keep up with you."

I put her down and she began to explore my front porch, as a cat would normally do. She sniffed and padded around, but didn't stray very far. After a moment, she came back and laid down at my feet. She looked up at me and I couldn't help grinning at her. She was truly gorgeous and I secretly loved her already.

I suddenly felt an anxious tension throughout my body, and I looked up at the lightening sky. The sun would be up in less than half an hour and I knew it was time. I wanted to stand there and hold him close and tell him all the reasons why I loved him. I wanted to tell him that it wasn't because of our bond, it was something that I felt in my heart. I wanted to apologize for not always being patient, and smack him for every time I reached for him after a dream, only to find an empty space. He didn't have that kind of time though, and he wasn't exactly the long good-byes type.

Instead, I settled on asking, "Do you wanna sleep here for the day?"

"I've been here too long already," he replied. "I have time if I leave the 'Vette."

I sighed, putting my hands on his enormous chest. "I want to fly away with you," I said, sadness weighing down my voice.

"Nothing would make me happier," he said, then he leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Don't try to be a hero while I'm gone." Normally I would've said something sarcastic or women's lib-ish, but I just didn't care about my ego at that point. With my heart breaking, all I could do was nod and bury my head against his shirt. "You must have faith, lover. For both of us."

I looked up and saw a bloody tear pooling under one of his eyes. This was only the second time I'd ever seen him cry - the first time was when he was hexed and wasn't himself. But now, he was shedding tears for me. If I'd ever had a single doubt about his feelings for me, it was officially gone. I reached up and caught the tear with my fingertip, as he'd done so many times with my more frequently drawn tears. I put it in my mouth and he grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer to him. With his blood still on my lips, he kissed me with such force that I staggered back a step when he finally let me go.

With a great _whoosh _and a swirl of dust, he was in the air and flying back toward Shreveport. I let out a long, pitiful sigh. Shit.

I looked down at Elsa, who was still stationed next to my slippers. If a vampire had just flown away from us like a giant bat, she didn't much care. Living at Fangtasia, that was probably the tamest thing she'd seen in weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm so excited that you guys are enjoying the story so far. You're right, another separation from Eric will be tough on Sookie. But when has our heroine ever listened to even the best of advice? This is when it starts to get interesting...**_

_**Props to Ms. Harris. **_

Chapter Three

I woke up the next day around two. I opened my eyes, to be greeted by a curious set of green eyes staring at me. Elsa seemed to be smiling, so I smiled back and gave her a scratch under her chin.

I hurt in all the right places. It had been a while and I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be _taken _by Eric Northman. I stayed under the sheets for a while and inhaled the scent of him, playing a mental slide show of our naughtiness from the night before. Sex with Eric was constantly on the borderline of being excessive. Even when he whispered sweet words and gently touched me, I always ended up sweating and screaming and he always did that thing he does. Soooo well. He wore me out and I loved it. I sometimes counted my blessings that I had the whole day to recover after our encounters.

The time came for me to get up and prepare for my dinner shift at Merlotte's. I dragged myself from bed and pulled out a fresh uniform shirt. I remembered how it had gotten a little chilly the night before, so I opted for pants rather than my usual summer shorts. Fall was right around the corner after all. I was undressed and about to hop in a steaming shower, when I heard a rapid banging on the front door.

"For Pete's sake," I grumbled, putting on my giant terrycloth robe and pulling it tight. The banging got louder as I turned off the water, so I sent out my feelers. I got a mental smack when I sensed anger and apprehension and saw what I can only describe as a snaggled mess of black string. It was a were. I mostly got emotion from shifters and weres, with only the occasional thought if the person was a good broadcaster.

_Where is this girl? Standing out here like a goddamned messenger boy. I shoulda never -_

It was Alcide.

I groaned as I headed downstairs. Alcide Herveaux wasn't on my list of favorite people, although I had once counted him as a friend. Ever since he'd become pack master and I'd witness him eat someone and then do it with some were chick in the middle of a parking lot, my opinion of him had become a little tarnished. Also, he'd turned into kind of a jerk.

He banged again and I yelled, "I'm coming, jeez!"

I reached out to open the door, when I realized that Elsa was standing directly in my path. She stared up at me and the fur puffed out around her head and neck, like she was a little ticked off lion.

"Scat," I said, trying to shoo her away with the tip of my slipper. She stood her ground though, arching her back and hissing. I realized I was seeing my new sentry at work and I smiled kindly at her.

"It's okay," I whispered. I did my best to step around her and pushed aside the curtain to take a look. It was Alcide alright, looking a might impatient. He was still brawny and handsome as I remembered, though maybe a bit worn around the edges, like he'd been at war or something. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since Eric had made himself scarce, but I knew Alcide was no enemy. I was still a friend of the pack, even if a few of them wanted to chew my face off.

As soon as I opened the door, Elsa moved through my legs and stood between us. She hissed at Alcide and he stepped back.

"And to what to I owe this pleasure?" I asked, my voice dry as my bath towel.

His eyes were on the cat. "Damn, Sookie! Tell her I'm a good guy."

"I did. She doesn't seem to agree."

"No, you gotta do it with your...mind powers."

"What?"

"Just do it."

I eyed him suspiciously for a second, but then I turned to Elsa. I leaned over a little and sent her a mental message. _This is Alcide, Elsa. He's a werewolf, but he's my friend. Eric wouldn't mind him being here. I'm safe with him, okay?_

She looked at me, then to him, but seemed satisfied. She came down from red alert and maintained a safe distance, sitting at attention on the rug behind me.

"How did you know about Elsa?" I asked quickly.

"Eric warned me about her."

"When and why did you talk to Eric?" I asked warily.

"Night fall yesterday, he showed up at my office. Asked if I could do him a favor."

My eyes widened in disbelieve and he nodded. "Yeah, I know, I know. But I figured it might not be such a bad place to be in, having Northman owe me the favor for once. I only agreed when he said it was for you."

His brusque voice softened when he said the last sentence and I felt guilty for being impolite to him. "Well," I said, "I have to leave for work in a while, but I have some tea in the frigde. Wanna come in for a minute?"

"Not with that thing staring at me." He caught himself the second the words came out and immediately looked embarrassed. "I mean, if it's all the same, I'll just do what I'm here to do and be on my way."

"Alright then."

He reached into his back pocket and retrieved a white envelope. It was bent and looked like it'd been under his butt during the ride over, but I could see in an instant that it was the stationary Eric kept in his desk drawer at Fangtasia. I took from his hand and turned it over. Seeing my name in Eric's handwriting brought a quick tear to my eye.

"He gave this to you?" I tried to not sound rude, but it wasn't a well guarded secret how Eric and Alcide felt about each other.

"Said he didn't want any of the vamps to know about it. He tried to pay me off to keep my mouth shut, but I don't need his money."

All I could do was stare down at my hands. What could he have possibly wanted to say after last night? What could be so important that he turned to Alcide, of all people?

Alcide sighed and shifted uncomfortably. "Anyway, I gotta be headin' back to the office now, Sookie." Another few seconds passed and when I didn't respond, he emphasized, "I did what I was supposed to do."

I nodded, finally noticing the Herveaux and Sons pick-up truck in the driveway. "Yeah, well thanks for stopping by." This was all I could manage to say, my throat tightening with an oncoming flood of tears.

He tried to turn away, but he stopped himself and rolled his eyes. He'd always fought the urge to be the nice guy I knew him to be. "Sookie, what's happening?"

I shook my head and swiped away a tear. "It's nothing."

"Cut the shit, girl. What'd he do this time?"

"It's not like that," I insisted. I knew that even showing this much emotion in front of Alcide was giving away too much, but I couldn't help myself, as usual. "He's just trying to protect me."

"That's what abused women say."

My tears stung as I glared at him. "I don't think it's any of your damn business."

"_He_ made it my business." He leaned in close to me and I felt Elsa rub against my leg. I could feel the heat radiating off his body and for a split second, I recalled what it felt like to touch his warm skin. "You're better off without any of us messing up your life anymore. You're too good for this."

"Yeah, that's what everyone keeps saying." I sighed and he gave me one of those nice guy looks. I knew he was trying to be a knight in shining fur, but I didn't want to hear it from him anymore than I wanted to fight with him. No matter what state of our relationship was in, he always had a way of fogging things up. Gripping the letter in my hand, I plastered on one of my best crazy Sookie smiles and repeated, "Thanks for stopping by, Alcide."

He absorbed the words for a second, and finally stood down. He'd been dismissed by Sookie Stackhouse on more than one occasion. "Take care. You know how to reach me." He said the words over his shoulder as he turned on his heel and walked away. He was thinking all sorts of unpleasant things about Eric, and a few about me too.

I was already inside with the door closed when I heard his truck peel down my driveway. Gran would've been ashamed of me.

I ripped into the paper, standing there in the middle of the front hall. I couldn't imagine waiting to open it until I got home from work, knowing full well that its contents could put me in a mood beyond foul. Maybe it was a Dear Sookie letter. A list of the reasons why he wasn't ever coming back. He'd found a nice fang banger to settle down with.

"Tell me to get a hold of myself," I mumbled to Elsa. She looked up at me and let out a long meow. If she could really feel what I was feeling, then she was in the right place to hold me up when I passed out.

Inhaling a deep breath, I unfolded the letter and began to read.

_My Lover,_

_Words continue to fail me whenever I am in your presence. I'm distracted and I often lose my concentration. I thought it would be best to write a few things down, though you must destroy this letter after you read it. For so long I have wanted to express my sentiment for you, yet it seems that I lack the courage to actually do it. Until recently, I wasn't even convinced I could still feel love. Now I am consumed by it._

_You have much love to give, I feel it flow from you effortlessly. Every day, I open my eyes, and I feel you. I do not know how it's even possible, but our bond seems to grow stronger, despite the time and distance between us. It occurred to me that my feelings for you have surpassed the bond our blood gives us._

_This, in itself, is curious to me. For a thousand years, I felt little more than greed, lust, and ambition. I am all of these things, and yet I when I'm with you I am more than that. I suppress the memories I have of my human life because those emotions no longer fit into my daily existence. I never forgot, I just chose not think about it, day after week after year after century, and it just became easy. It was unused and unnecessary._

_I have lived a mostly solitary life and I am not accustomed to being concerned with anyone's thoughts but my own. Even now, with Pam by my side, I am still very much alone. Most of my time is spent staring into the empty eyes of the pathetic creatures here at the club, and this was acceptable to me for the time being. This is barely a mention on the timeline of my life._

_I find now that it is not enough. The blood of another is bland, sex is unsatisfying unless I'm staring into your eyes. My life has been so drastically changed since I met you that I have no choice but to accept it and move forward._

_So it would appear that I have waited 1374 years for a barmaid from the bayou to give me something I never thought I needed - humility._

_That being said, I must now ask for your understanding when I explain what I am about to do. Tonight, I will come to you and rationalize my actions the best way I can, and I'm sure you will be furious with me. I will answer all of those little questions you always ask and I always evade. And I will tell you about Freyja. I'm going to search for her again and one way or another, I will not come back empty handed. If I am capable of loving you, then there is room in my heart for my own child. I simply must know Sookie, and I ask that you speak of this to no one. You are the only one I have ever entrusted with this information and it is vital to your safety that it remains that way. _

_We have had our differences in the past concerning your safety and your otherwise disregard of my guidance on the subject. By telling you these secrets I have kept guarded for so long, I am entrusting my life to you. Please show me the same respect. I was born a warrior and I will die one defending you._

_When I return, I shall deal with Victor and we will discuss the future. I know you are determined to reject any suggestions I have of turning you, but I want you to really think about this, lover. You worry about the effects it would have on your friends and family. You worry about them growing old around you. And yet you would have me watch you grow older every year until the life went out f your body. Just think about it._

_Know that I love you and that I shall return for you._

_-E _

I stood there for a few minutes, very quiet and still. I reread the last paragraph four times, before tears finally obscured my vision and I neatly folded the letter back into its envelope. He was absolutely right - I hadn't ever thought of his feelings on the subject of me being turned. I had always assumed in the back of my head that he would give up asking me and just leave me eventually, when I became old and feeble and ugly. But that was terrible and selfish and I couldn't believe that I had only thought of myself.

I held the letter against my heart and walked upstairs to get ready for work, in a daze. I would burn the letter later, after I read it about a dozen more times and committed it to memory. I didn't think twice when I put it into my purse and left the house a while later. When I got to Merlotte's, I folded the letter and slipped it into the pocket of my apron. I just had to keep it close to me.

I was surrounded by a thick fog the whole night. My tips were horrible and I spilled a beer on Hoyt's lap. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn't even hear anyone else's . My shields were up, but they were on auto-pilot. While I was filling some salt shakers, I kept thinking about the last time I'd seen Eric, nearly eight months before. It was like my head was stuck on play, rewind, play, rewind.

It had been a lovely spring day. Jason and I set up the wicker furniture on the front porch so we could have lunch together with a few of Gran's old gal pals from the Descendants of the Glorious Dead. I did this every once in a while and it helped me feel closer to Gran's memory. I made fried green tomatoes, potato salad, and pecan pie, all from Gran's recipe box. I saw Jason at the Piggley Wiggley that morning and he just got roped into helping. We all ended up having a good time though, and it turned out to be a nice, normal day.

Eric brought over a bottle of something he called ice wine that night, and we drank it while watching the stars from the front porch. Well, I drank ninety percent of it and he just smiled as I got a little tipsy. He would never have admitted it at the time, but I knew he truly enjoyed those quiet, domestic moments we shared. He made me a bowl of cereal with sliced banana, because he insisted that I sober up before taking advantage of me.

We shared each other's blood that night, which wasn't something we did too often. He drank from me every time we were together, but taking his blood was like taking a drug. It left my senses in a frenzy and I never did it unless I had to. But that night, I was feeling reckless and stupid. He bit into my neck as he drove my headboard into the wall, and I bit him back. I bit his shoulder so hard that I felt his blood pour into my mouth. He screamed like I'd never heard him scream before and held my head to the wound so I could drink before it healed itself. When I was done, he wiped the blood from my mouth and said, "_Jag alskar dig. Min fru." _

He never told me what that meant, but I memorized it anyway.

He had a meeting at three a.m. and business was business after all. We said goodnight without a fuss, even though I wasn't sure when I was going to see him again. I was so high from the sex and the blood, maybe I didn't care all that much at the moment. Anyway, my guard was down. I was cleaning up the dishes from outside, with my back to the yard, when I felt it - a blank space moving in, and fast.

I knew it was a vamp, but I didn't even have time to turn around. I felt my torso being squeezed from behind. There was a _pop _and my arms went numb. I fell to the floor, my assailant on top of me, and then I was out.

I woke up to find Eric hovering over me, in the process of biting his wrist open. I tried to move, but searing pain shot through my arms and shoulders and I shrieked.

"Don't move," Eric said softly. "Your shoulders are dislocated."

My head lolled back as tears streamed down onto the dusty porch beneath me. "What happened?"

"Victor." The name came out like a growl.

Panic filled my body and my muscles tensed. More pain, another scream. "He was here?"

"I can still smell his stench."

Victor had been the one? Bold, to say the least. Desperate even. Why would he show himself? He'd had his henchmen cruising around my property for months, but not one of them had actually gotten into the house. This was before the days of my nightly Bill/Bubba vigils, but the protective spell my witch friend Amelia had put around my house should have still been working. Maybe not so much.

"Why am I not dead?"

I looked into his eyes and saw a flash of black behind the icy blue. He was like a snake, coiling up and waiting to strike. Apparently, Eric had wondered the same thing.

"I don't know." Then he asked, "Was your kin here after I left you?"

I knew he meant my fairy folks, cousin Claude and Uncle Dermott. "No. You left and then it happened."

"Despicable coward," Eric sneered. He must've been waiting just beyond Eric's line of senses, or else he would've known immediately that Victor had been lurking around.

"Why you asking 'bout fairies?" I could barely talk, the pain was so great. Even a healthy dose of Eric's blood only hours earlier couldn't take the pain away from the injuries I'd sustained.

"Magic was done here. I can feel it glowing all around you."

I didn't know what he was talking about. I tried to sit up, but the more I moved, the more I hurt. His attention quickly snapping back to the matter at hand, he shoved his wrist in my mouth and I drank more of his blood.

"You cannot afford to be physically weak right now," he said, his tone more kind. I nodded and he pushed the hair behind my ears as I sucked.

We laid there for a few minutes, and I felt my body beginning to mend, like I was the Bionic Woman or something. When I had enough strength to move, he carried me to my bed and tucked me in. He got me some aspirin and a big glass of water and stayed next to me all night.

The last thing Eric did that night before I dozed off was make a quick phone call. He went downstairs and stood in the living room, but I heard what he said. His voice was low and even, yet there was pure hate in his words.

"If you make the mistake of touching Sookie again, it will be your last."

That was it.

He crept upstairs and slid back into bed with me for a while longer before the sun rose. My shoulders and chest were still aching, but I was able move freely as he gently wrapped his arms around me. "_Min alskling_," he said in barely a whisper. "_Min alskling_."

I fell asleep wondering about the magic Eric had mentioned. My body was positively buzzing, but I couldn't tell if it was from his blood or something else. I would have to ask Claude or Dermott in the morning...

"Sookie!"

I snapped out of my reverie to see Sam standing in front of me. He looked down at my hands and I saw a pile of spilled salt all over the bussing station.

"Oh, sorry. Crap."

"Bud's asked for a refill three times," he said, none too pleased with me.

"Sorry, Sam. I'm sorry." I shook my head and hurried over to Bud Dearborn, Bon Tempes' off-duty sheriff. He looked tired and annoyed as he waved his glass at me. "Sorry, Bud," I said, taking the stein from his hand before he threw it at me. "I'm a little busy."

"Don't look busy," he grumbled, and went on about people getting stupider everyday in this town. I held my tongue as I walked away, because he was my senior and had been kind to me when my Gran passed. He was in danger of quickly turning into a grumpy old drunk, but this time, it was my fault.

Sam caught up to me as I stood in front of the taps. "What's going on with you tonight?" he asked, taking the glass from my hand and pouring the beer over again, this time with no foam.

"My head's just not in it tonight, Sam."

"Something troublin' you?"

Sam was my best friend. I trusted him more than anyone in the world. It hurt my heart to lie to him, or leave out all the important details, as I was about to do. But he'd make his feeling for me, and for Eric, very clear on more than one occasion, and it wasn't the place for story time. Even if he was dating a werewolf and seemed pretty happy, I had learned to draw a line when it came to my personal life and Sam.

"Just my same old vampire shit, that's all," I said with a pathetic smile.

He frowned and let out a little tisk. I knew he was holding in a very judgmental comment and counting in his head before he said, "Haven't heard you say that in a while."

I nodded, taking the glass from his hand. "Yeah, well, it hasn't been a problem for a while."

I delivered Bud's beer and kissed another tip good-bye as I walked away without a word.

After I switched table two and five's orders and I dropped a tray of shot glasses on the way to the pool table, Sam pulled me into his office and shut the door.

"What's going on, cher?" He looked at me, his brow all creased. Saying he had puppy dog eyes was an understatement. He was only a little taller than me, and when he stood close, he stared right into my eyes.

I turned away, the letter in my apron searing a hole in my conscience. "Don't be mad when I say I can't tell you."

"I'm not mad, I'm used to it," he replied.

"Don't make me feel like a terrible friend, Sam. I'm miserable enough already."

He considered me for a few seconds and then sighed, running his hands through his sandy hair. "Why don't you just head home early."

"I'm fine, Sam."

"Okay, then you owe me forty bucks for that round of Johnny Walker you just dropped."

I gasped. "Sam Merlotte!"

"I'm kidding," he said quickly, holding his hands up between us. "Just go home, Sook. It's a slow night, Harlee and I can close up."

Harlee, huh. I thought about the newest girl in the revolving door of waitresses we had at Merlotte's. She seemed efficient enough, though she worked mostly days and I didn't know her all that well. And I was sure every man in Renard parish had noticed how she filled out her uniform.

"Well, alright. Thanks. I'll make up the hours."

"I'm not worried about that," he said. "I'm worried that you're getting yourself into something stupid and dangerous again."

"Who, me?"

I winked at him and he finally smiled. "Right. I'll be the first one to know."

I nodded. "You'll be the first one to know."

"Goodnight, Sookie. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"'Kay, Sam."

We gave each other a quick shoulder hug and I scurried out the back door before I caused anymore damage. No one would be biting me that night.

Driving home, I thought about the conversations I'd had with Claude and my uncle the day after I was attacked. The magic ripple Eric had sensed clung to me like plastic wrap. It wasn't an all together bad feeling, but I definitely felt - something. Claude had been stripping all night at his club in Monroe, so cross him off. When I asked Uncle if he knew anything, his answer had been a little more cryptic.

"One never needs to look far for magic to reveal itself."

Great. Thanks for the words of crazy old world wisdom.

I still didn't know what really happened that night. The magic cling wrap feeling was long gone. Victor had kept a fairly low profile since then, according to Pam, which probably meant he was up to no good. But if he wasn't doing anything overt, then we had nothing to defend ourselves with if we ended up killing him. Pam was partial gutting him and making it look like a cooking accident. Silly Pam and her dry British humor.

I knew that Eric could have been seriously punished for even threatening Victor, left alone laying a single finger on him. He was practically a king in his own right and the power Eric had was minute in comparison to Victor's. Eric was older and had more influence in the vamp community, but that didn't mean much if he had a death warrant hanging over his head.

Thinking about it was enough to make my head throb. I wanted to just sleep it away, but it was only a little after nine by the time I unlocked my backdoor and I wasn't nearly tired enough to go to bed yet. Undressing, I realized I'd left Merlotte's in such a hurry that I'd forgotten to take my apron off. I usually left it in the office or in my car. Then I remembered the letter. I took it out and laid it on my dresser, just staring at it as I got undressed. I purposely picked out a pair of pajama bottoms that had pockets and I took it with me downstairs.

Eric would be furious, though not at all surprised, I guessed. There was no getting around it, I was making a bad decision every second that I disobeyed his order to destroy it. Maybe he was right, maybe I did endanger myself without thinking of the consequences. Maybe I did it a lot.

Maybe I'd read it one more time.

As I headed toward the kitchen to make myself a snack, I felt a pulling in my stomach and stopped in my tracks. Like there were invisible threads attached to the inside of me and they were being pulled. It was a strong feeling, like nothing I'd ever experienced in my life. I wanted to get in my car and follow it until I found out where it was coming from. I closed my eyes and let my feelers out.

It was Eric. He was calling out to me, like he did to Pam. But that was impossible. A maker could only call to his child, I thought.

Then the pain hit me. I gasped, falling to my knees. I looked down at my chest, for blood or any kind of wound, but there was nothing. It hit me again, and I fell onto the floor. I tried to scream, hoping that Bill or Bubba would hear me, but nothing came out. I gasped for air as my throat began to tighten. I was suffocating, my heart felt like it was about to explode. I lay there as my body began to convulse and I knew I was about to die. My vision began to fade and the pain began to turn into numb dizziness , but I still felt the threads pulling me. Like a fool, I tried to crawl for the door, but I felt like I'd been staked to the ground.

Staked.

My body tried to sob, but there was no air to push out the cries. Tears fell from my eyes involuntarily as I understood what I was feeling. Eric was dying, and part of me was too.

Then, it was gone. As quickly as the pain had begun, it vanished. I heaved air into my lungs and began to cough, like someone had just let go out my throat. Panting, I reached for the nearest piece of furniture, an old ottoman, and pulled myself onto it. I stayed there for a while, weeping on the ancient fabric and trying to breathe at the same time.

As my body relaxed and I began to breathe normally, I realized that the thread were still there. It was faint, but Eric was still pulling on me.

I didn't have time to celebrate. There was an abrupt pounding on the front door. I tried to lug myself up to at least a sitting position, but my muscles felt like jelly. Suddenly, the frame splintered as the door swung open and hit the wall.

It was Pam. She looked just like I felt. There where blood tears streaked down her face, staining her trench coat and she stared at me with menacing eyes. Bill was standing behind her with his fangs bared, holding on to one of her wrists.

"Knock, knock, cupcake."

_**AN: Reviews are inspiration, so feel free. I'd love to hear from you.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Soooo, a lot of you were wondering about the Victor connection to the story. Patience will be required until that detail is revealed. What's more important is going after Eric. Picture taking a road trip with a pissed-off Pam and a love-struck Bill. Poor Sookie, hehehehe.**_

_**As always, props to Ms. Harris.**_

Chapter Four

"Knock, knock, cupcake."

Looking up at Pam, from my vantage on the floor, was like looking at a horror movie poster. Blood-streaked face, trench coat covered with dirt, hair wildly out of place, her nylons riddled with runs. She looked like she'd just been chased through the woods by a serial killer.

Bill, upon seeing my distress, let go of Pam and rushed to my side. As he kneeled down next to me, Elsa popped up behind us, her paws resting protectively on my waist. Had she been next to me the whole time? I hadn't even noticed. Bill leaned back quickly, as not to startle her.

"Hello, Elsa," he said in a calm and quiet voice. "You remember me."

Apparently, she didn't. Her ears folded back and she let out a throaty growl. Bill made a small cut on his palm with a fingernail and extended his hand out to her. She sniffed it, thought about it for a second, then rubbed her head against his palm.

"What the hell, Bill?" I asked, my voice tense with fear. What had I just witnessed? I thought Eric said she wasn't a vampire cat.

"I'll explain later." He put his head under my shoulder and gently hoisted me up to my feet, holding on to my waist as I felt my knees go weak. "Are you alright? Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," I replied. This was as close as I'd been to Bill in a very long time and I tried not to look that freaked out than I already was. "Just a little scared I think."

"I got to you as soon as I could." His words were apologetic, and he had that guilty Bill look on his face.

"Bill, I'm fine, really," I assured him. Then I looked to Pam, who was still standing in the doorway. "What happened to you?"

She glared at Bill, and he said in a humble voice, "Pam and I had a little disagreement outside."

"You attacked me!" she snapped. "I hope you can afford Burberry."

I noticed then that Bill was just as dusty and roughed up as Pam was. "You two were fighting?"

"Let's skip the preliminaries, shall we?" Pam asked, stepping closer to us. The second she moved over the threshold, Elsa got in front of her and let out a loud, nasty hiss. Pam's fangs clicked down and she hissed right back at her. "Fuck off, fur ball."

Elsa crouched low to the ground and snarled, but she let Pam pass. How could anyone forget Pam after all? She was like meeting a cross between Jackie Kennedy and a Venus fly trap. The cat circled a few times, sniffing the air around Pam, and then came back to rest by my side. She turned her chin up, miffed. The feeling was obviously mutual.

Pam and I stared each other down for a moment. She could see that I was in physical pain, and I could see from her dried blood tears that she had experienced something. Had it been physical pain, or where those tears of emotion? There was only one person in the world that she would shed tears over, and I knew it. Bill hung on to me tightly, even though I could stand on my own. I realized very quickly that he was protecting me.

"Where's Eric?" Her voice was like ice.

"I don't know."

"Liar. I know he was here last night."

"Yes, he was." Obviously. I gestured down to the cat. "He gave me Elsa."

She snorted. "Don't play stupid with me, Sookie. It's not one of your better skills."

"Well, using doorknobs isn't one of yours."

Pam looked over her shoulder and shrugged. "I slipped."

Where the hell was this coming from? Pam and I had always gotten along, especially after I saved her life from the flaming wreckage of a pyramid hotel. She was my friend, I thought. We went shopping together and teased Eric together. She tried to give me fashion tips and I introduced her to "General Hospital." Sure, she teased me a lot, especially when it came to my relationship with Eric. I was familiar with her surly side, but she had never used it against me before. I was confused by her anger, and it hurt my feelings, to be honest.

It was obvious that I knew more about Eric's whereabouts than she did, and that probably pissed her off real good.

"Why were you crying?" I asked. I could play games too, if need be, although it certainly wasn't the time or place. "You look like shit."

She almost went for it. One of her hands flashed up to smooth out her hair. She was a vein little thing after all, something about her that usually made me laugh. She stopped herself though, and one eyebrow cocked up high on her forehead. Taking a deep breath, she brushed off her coat a bit and walked closer to me, her shiny pumps clicking on the hardwood floor. She smiled wickedly, like she had just imagined killing a puppy. Or a cat.

"Sookie," she said, her voice velvety and showing not a hint of anger. "I may have enjoyed your company from time to time over the past several years. I may have even called you my friend, in some estrogen-induced relapse to my humanity. But let me make a few things clear to you, darlin'. I am not human. And if anything happens to Eric because of you, I will rip your pretty little throat out."

Bill bared his fangs, putting himself in front of me. Pam didn't spare him a glance. Her eyes were fixed on me like I was just some breather who was about to be glamoured. I felt like a coward hiding behind him, but I was still feeling weak. For the first time, I was actually afraid of her. My heart ached, even as it began to beat faster.

"Now, we both know that he's been seriously injured, right?"

I cleared my throat so my voice wouldn't crack. "Right."

"And the last person he saw was you?"

She didn't know about Alcide then, or the letter. I decided to answer carefully. "He was here all night and then left just before dawn."

"Alright, good. We have our facts straight." The smile faded from her face and she leaned closer to me. I could see the blood cracking and flaking off her porcelain skin. "Now, if you know where he is, I suggest you share that information with me before you color scheme goes from shabby chic to blood. Are you pickin' up what I'm puttin' down?"

I quickly weighed my options, standing between two sets of fangs and with Eric's letter burning a hole in my pocket. I seriously doubted Bill's ability to protect me if Pam went bat shit crazy. She was only a little older than him, but she had a more powerful maker, not to mention the constitution of an Iraqi executioner. I knew Bill would fight to the death to save my life, but he'd been pretty badly injured during the fairy melee and I wasn't sure if he was up for it. And why should he have to risk his life for mine anyway? My life wasn't any more important than his own. Darn Eric for putting him in this position in the first place, although I had a strong feeling that Bill would have been there whether Eric told him to be or not. Bill and I had had our many differences, but the fact remained that he'd saved my life more than once and he at least deserved that respect.

This Mexican vampire standoff was going nowhere, when I suddenly felt a strong pull in my stomach. I shivered and had to fight the urge to walk out the door.

Pam's eyes widened. She recognized that shiver.

Her fangs retracted and her shoulders fell. "He calls to you?" she asked, for the first time showing something other than anger.

"Um...well, I'm not real sure what it is," I said. "It's like there's something pulling on me, from the inside."

Bill interjected, "Sookie, that's not possible."

"But we're bonded."

"He's not your maker," he insisted.

I turned my head toward him and wiggled from his hold on me. "I'm not making this up, Bill. I felt it just before all of the pain, then after the pain was gone it was still there." I quickly looked to Pam. "He's still alive, Pam. I think he was-"

"Staked," she finished.

I nodded. "Yeah. He's weak, but he's alive. Maybe it was silver, not a wooden stake."

She nodded with me. "That's what I felt too." She moved past us and began to pace the living room rug. Elsa followed her back and forth a few times, until Pam stepped on her paw and she scurried away. "Why would he call to you?" she asked, more to herself than to me.

"I don't-"

"Why would he leave without a single word and then call to you?" she cried. Tears were brimming on the edge of her eyes.

"Pam-"

"Two hundred years and he's never left without saying good-bye. There's no one else that he would call to. Until you."

Bill and I just stood there. Bill looked like he was watching a car accident in progress. She was coming apart at the seams and I had no idea what to say to her. Pam had two settings, normally - snippy or sarcastic. This emotional disaster in front of us was a new one. She was jealous of me, and that set off the danger bulb in my brain. Even so, I couldn't help but feel at little sympathy for her. Sure, she was threatening my life, but she loved Eric just as much as I did. Maybe more.

"He made me promise not to tell." It's official. I was an idiot.

She stalked over to me in a blink. "Tell you what?"

"Sookie..." Bill's voice was a warning in my ear.

"Shut up, Bill." Pam stared at me intently, the steady deadpan tone returned to her voice. "Tell you what?"

I hesitated. "He's dying, Sookie," she demanded, and I jumped. Tears fell onto my own cheeks now and I couldn't look at her.

"If you ever loved him-"

"I love him," I said angrily. "You of all people should understand how much trust means to Eric."

"We don't have time to argue about the ethics of the situation." Pam said. "Are you gonna tell me where he is, or am I going to have to kill the both of you and then go look for him by myself? Either way, it's going to be a hell of a lot of work for me and I'm not wearing the right shoes for this sort of business."

I rolled my eyes and looked to Bill. He gave a slight shrug, as if he was confessing that I really had no choice. I had been in enough of these vampire messes to know that there was no way I would ever be able to march in and save Eric by myself. It was already a foregone conclusion in my head that I was going to do it. Having Pam with me would increase my chances of getting Eric out alive.

They both stared at me. If they had to breathe, they would've been holding it. Even Elsa was looking up at me impatiently, as they all waited for me to speak.

I sighed and looked down at my feet. "He's in Sweden." I felt like a traitor, like a deflated balloon.

"Sweden. Fabulous," Pam griped. "Of course he is. He couldn't have gone to the beer distributor and gotten kidnapped." She took out her cell phone and began furiously pushing buttons. "We'll leave within the hour. I'm texting the pilot."

"Eric has his own plane?" I asked incredulously.

"For emergencies, yes," she replied, still looking at her phone. "It costs a fortune, he's going to be livid."

"Pam, I don't have a passport."

"Of course you do. Eric had one made up for you months ago. And there's a bag packed for you on the plane as well. Do what you have to do, we're leaving. You can tell me the rest of your little story on the way to the airport."

I could only imagine the kinds of clothing Eric or Pam would have packed for me. Unless I was allowed to walk around Sweden in crotchless panties and school girl uniforms, I was going to have to grab a few things before we left.

"What's he going to Sweden for?" Bill asked.

"Uh..."I turned my head away, just like I always did when I was about to tell a whopper of a lie.

Pam, of course, was too quick for my little deception. "He's going to look for her again, isn't he?"

"You know?" My eyes were wide.

"Sookie, please," she said, rolling her eyes. "The world did not begin to spin the day he met you. Although my world certainly got a lot more difficult."

I let her insult bounce off me, because she usually doled them out like Tic Tacs at an AA meeting. Of course she knew, there was no reason why he wouldn't have told her at some point over the past two hundred years. I guess he trusted his secrets with Pam, while me on the other hand, he had to warn to keep my mouth shut.

"Did you ever go with him?" I asked.

"No, he never let me." She didn't like admitting that.

"Then you have no idea where we're going."

"I thought he told you," she said, her voice getting deep and slow. Have you ever seen a vampire lose their patience?

"I told you , I don't know where he is, Pam."

"Great," she frowned. "I'll just tell the pilot to circle until we see him from the air."

"Who is he looking for?" Bill asked.

"There's no time, Bill. I gotta go pack."

He grabbed me by the arm as I headed toward the stairs. "I'm coming with you."

"Oh, no you're not," I retorted.

"Sookie, I am not letting you just walk into unknown danger."

I looked down at his hand, then back up to him. "I am not yours anymore. This isn't your fight."

I watched the expression on his face change as I said the magic vampire words _not yours. _He let go of my arm and took a step back. "Still, the fact remains that Eric has entrusted me with your life," he went on, holding his head a bit higher. "He is my sheriff. If something happened to you and I wasn't there to prevent it-"

"He'd kill him." Pam finished. She looked at Bill and waved indifferently. "You might as well come. What would us ladies do without a man around?"

What she really meant was that we needed as much manpower as we could get. Three was better than two, especially when one of the three was just a telepathic barmaid.

I shook my head. An hour ago, I was on my way to the kitchen for a cup of hot cocoa, and now I was going to Sweden with Bill and Pam. "What about my front door?" I yelled after her. "We can't just leave it like this."

She waved her phone over her head as she walked out onto the porch. "Already taken care of. I'll be waiting in the car."

I looked to Bill, but he was no help. He just shrugged again, but with a lopsided smile on his face. A I-get-to-go-to-Sweden-with-Sookie smile. I didn't like that smile. What a perfect time for him to finally develop a sense of humor.

"Well, go pack," I cried, exasperated. "And be quick about it."

He zipped out the open door and I was left alone with the cat. She looked up at me with her placid green eyes and rubbed my leg. Who was going to take care of her now? "See," I said out loud. "I told him you were gonna have to fend for yourself around here."

After I had thrown some clothes and a few other necessities into a small suitcase I kept under my bed, I changed into a pair of jeans and a long sleeve cotton tee. I threw my pajamas on the bed and Eric's letter fell onto my quilt. Chewing on my bottom lip for a minute, I thought about what to do with it. It did contain my only clues to his whereabouts, I rationalized. And it wasn't safe to leave it in the house after I was gone. Decision made. I tucked it into my suitcase, under a Bon Temps football sweatshirt, and zipped it up.

I went around the house and turned off all the lights. I put out a can of tuna and a saucer of milk for the kitty - I hadn't even bought her food yet. The last thing I did, as I shoved my phone charger into my purse, was call Sam.

"Merlotte's," he answered.

"Sam?"

"Sookie?"

"Yeah, it's me."

There was a quick pause, and I could picture him looking at the clock hanging over the bar. "What's going on?"

I took a deep breath. "Remember when I said that you'd be the first one to know?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, you're the first one to know."

He let out along, irritated sigh. "Aww, Sookie-"

"I'm sorry, Sam. I gotta go away for a few days, maybe longer."

"You don't gotta do anything, Sookie. He can't make you do things on a whim like this."

Even if I had the time to explain, I couldn't tell him anything anyway. So I stuck with honest and simple. "He's in trouble, Sam. I'm the only one who knows where he is."

"And where is that?"

"Somewhere that I need a passport for," I replied.

"Goddamn it, Sookie."

"They're gonna kill him, Sam."

Another sigh. He was probably running his fingers through his hair. "Who is they?"

"I don't know." Wouldn't tell him even if I did.

"And he's worth it? Worth risking' your life for?"

"Yes."

Silence. I don't know what he expected me to say. He was still in denial about my feelings for Eric, I supposed. Maybe he was waiting for me to declare my love to him, when he'd just hid behind a bar for four years and stared at me.

"Look, I know it's crazy, but I just need you to not freak out right now and listen," I said, juggling my purse and suitcase. "I gotta ask you a favor."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Can you call Alcide and ask him to come feed my cat?"

"When did you get a cat?" he cried.

"It's a long story."

"Well, I can come and take care of it if you want," he said, his voice glum.

I winced. I was hurting his feelings, I knew, but I didn't want Elsa to jump him like a leopard from the landing when he opened the door. "Just call Alcide, he'll explain, okay?"

"Okay."

"Sam, I gotta go."

"Yeah, alright." There was a long pause, and I could hear the noises of the bar in the background. "Sookie...just take care of yourself."

"I will. I'll be back soon, I promise. Bye, Sam."

"Bye, cher."

I sighed heavily and threw my phone into my purse. Worst employee ever. I'd have to get him a souvenir, once the rescue mission was complete that is. I wondered what came from Sweden, aside from Vikings and IKEA?


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Some of you wondered about Pam being so nasty to Sookie in the last chapter. Would she do that? Heck yeah! If she really thought that Eric was going to die and she had no way of helping him other than throwing a few threats Sookie's way, I think she'd say or do whatever she had to. Would Eric beat the you-know-what out of her when he found out? Heck yeah.**_

_**Please review when you're done. I find that it gives my skin a nice shiny glow. Not a Cullen glow, like a facial glow. ;) **_

_**As always, props to Ms. Harris.**_

**Chapter Five**

I was on a boat.

I could feel the waves gently swooshing under my feet. I looked around, and realized that I was in the middle of a vast sea. There was nothing in sight all around except for water and sky. It was a narrow boat I was floating in, but it was also very long. Over my head flew a blue sail with a white dragon emblazed on it.

I was all alone at first, but then I heard the sound of someone softly singing.

_"Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight, won't somebody help me chase the shadows away."_

I glanced toward the bow of the boat and saw a man sitting on a bench. Surely he hadn't been there a moment ago. He was wearing brown leathers and furs, with a large helmet obscuring his face. Long, blond braids flowed down his shoulders.

"Eric?" I asked, curiously.

He kept singing. His voice was low, like a pirate murmuring a sea shanty.

_"Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight, take me through the darkness to the break of the day."_

"Eric," I called out, louder this time, but he didn't notice me at all. His hands were wrapped around the hilt of a huge sword, it's tip dug into the wooden deck between his feet.

I kneeled down across from him, trying to get his attention. I reached out, but just as I was about to touch his hand, he raised his head. His face was badly cut and bruised. His lip was bleeding and one of his cheeks was swollen. He glared at my hand with his piercing sapphire eyes, and I quickly withdrew it.

"What's happened to you?" I whispered.

"Many things," he replied, his voice grim.

"Why are we on this boat?" I asked.

"Why are _you_ on this boat?" he asked in return.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just here."

He sighed, and he seemed annoyed with my presence. He turned away and stared out at the empty horizon for several minutes and I just kneeled in front of him, feeling my body rock with the waves that were slowly pushing the boat along. "They won't let you come, you know." he said finally.

"Come where?"

"They will be here soon, but they won't take you."

"Who's they, Eric?" Tension was raising my voice. I looked over my shoulder, but there was still nothing there but water and sky. I felt a strong urge to get away from this place, but how? There were no oars, barely even a breeze.

"The Valkaries, Sookie. Odin awaits my arrival."

"No, you said the Valkaries..."

"Only warriors are allowed entrance to Valhalla."

"But you're not dead!" I exclaimed. I moved next to him, careful to mind the gleaming blade between his legs. I noticed blood on the edge of it, oozing down onto the planks. I tried to pull him by the shoulder, to turn his face toward me, but he merely slid down the bench away from me. I moved closer anyway, yanking at his tattered sleeves. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

"Leave me be. You should not be here, woman."

"But you called me, Eric. I can feel you inside me. You called to me," I cried desperately.

He turned to me at last, looking bewildered. "Did I?"

I woke up with a gasp. It took me a moment to realize where I was - in what Bill had called a G4, somewhere over the Atlantic. Not in a Viking boat, not with Eric. I sighed and closed my eyes, urging my heart rate to slow down.

I always remembered my dreams, this time was no different. The words burned in my head like a bare light bulb. Was Eric really that close to death? He'd never give up that easily, yet he seemed so blasé, just sitting there like he was waiting for a bus.

But it was just a dream.

The ride from my house to Shreveport Regional Airport had been a tense one. Pam drove just like Eric did, which meant that I tightened my seatbelt and prayed that my human life be spared if she flipped her Audi SUV doing 110 down the highway. It was only a twenty minute ride, but twenty minutes of uncomfortable silence/terror is not good time spent.

As soon as we got on the plane, I settled myself onto a leather couch, as far away from both of my traveling companions as possible, and tried to get some sleep. I knew I'd be spending most of the flight alone because of the time difference, but I still tried to avoid Pam at any cost. She'd thrown a few nasty looks my way, and had actually thrown my luggage at me as well, so I gave her lots of eggshells. (Gran used to say that, when I was sulking, or when she was mad at Jason for something or another. She'd circle around with her finger and say, "_You're steppin' on my eggshells."_)

My sleep didn't last long though, unfortunately. Stupid dreams. I looked behind me and saw that Pam and Bill were still up. Bill was reading a book in an arm chair and Pam was sitting all the way in the back, staring out at the slowing paling sky. She looked very sad and it was going against my better judgment, as a Christian and as a friend, to not go back there and have a talk with her.

I was getting restless, waiting for the darn sun to come up. I made myself a gin and tonic and dug up a bag of pretzels. Finally, after almost an hour of looking at old magazines and fidgeting in my seat, I heard Pam get up and seal herself into one of the travel coffins behind the seating. I let out a long sigh of relief.

I stared out the window, and all I could see were dark blue clouds. I knew there was nothing under us but black water. That reminded me of my dream. It gave me a creepy feeling, and I drank half my glass.

After a minute, I heard some shuffling around and felt someone sit down on the end of my couch.

"Not now, Bill," I sighed, not even looking away from the window.

"Sookie, we must talk."

"Don't you have to go die for the day?"

"It can wait a few minutes."

"Not now," I repeated. There was a deep sadness growing in my heart as I felt the call from Eric again. It was faint now, but I could still feel it, pulling me inside out.

"Yes, now," he whispered, glancing behind us. "She could still be awake, you must keep your voice low." He slid close to me and I glared, leaning slightly away from him. He immediately backed off with an embarrassed roll of his eyes.

"Well, what is it then?" I asked.

He let out a great sigh and rubbed his hands on his lap. "Alright, now you said you felt pain from Eric?'"

"Yes, horrible pain, and sadness I think. He's so sad." I blinked my eyes, trying to keep in the tears hat were brimming under my eyelids.

"Please explain it to me," he said.

"Why?"

"Because we need to be prepared. We're obviously walking into a dangerous situation."

"Okay," I said with a little nod. Always the Boy Scout, as Eric would say. "I can't feel what he's feeling, like from our bond, because he's too far away. And I know it's daytime there already, but I'm still feeling these things from him. What could that mean?"

"Well," he said, inclining his head. "It could mean that his captors are human and they're keeping him awake on purpose. That's the best case scenario."

"And the worst?"

"That he's being guarded by something two-natured."

"Who's working for a vamp," I said.

He nodded. "That seems very probable, yes." I groaned and looked away, then he quickly added, "We can hope for the humans though."

"Yeah, sure we can," I mumbled, taking the last watered down sips of my drink.

We sat in silence for a minute. He was running out of time before the sunrise, yet he didn't move. I knew him well enough to see that there was something on his mind. I raised my eyebrows and gestured toward him.

"It just doesn't make sense to me," he said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why he would call to you and not to her? Why put you in harm's way?"

"He's hurting, Bill. Maybe he's just going on instinct right now."

"He's a thousand year-old vampire, Sookie. His instinct would be to call to his progeny, if anyone at all."

I huffed out loud and said, "Maybe what you're having a hard time with here is the relationship I have with Eric. We trust each other. He needs me."

He cringed a tiny bit as the word trust slid from my mouth, but he let it go. "This is hardly the time for petty jealousy. Regardless of your affection for each other, you are still merely a mortal."

"I'm merely nothing. We both know that."

We regarded each other for a few seconds, then he turned away with a sigh. Bill and Eric alike had learned not to argue with me. I could keep a fight going like a revolving door until I got my way.

"Cut to the chase, Bill," I said after another minute of letting him stew in it. "What's got you so uppity?"

He looked at me for a second, as if he was deciding whether it was even worth continuing the conversation. "These Scandinavian countries have a long standing vampire population. The individuals that are holding Eric might be even older than he is."

"I've thought of that," I said. "Still doesn't screw us any more than we already are."

"You can't just expect to walk in and walk back out with him," he said. "Things are different there, these are not American vamps we're dealing with. Their traditions go back centuries before the AVL. Eric is very progressive for his age. This will not be in our favor."

"Well, why didn't we bring more people?" My voice hitched up from annoyed to distressed and Bill just looked away, his jaw tense. "So basically, we're going on a suicide mission and no one else would come along."

"It's too risky to get anyone else involved. With Victor on the down low, we never know when he's just gonna show up. We have to proceed like it's business as usual."

"What about the bar?" I asked, referring to Fangtasia. "Is it closed?"

"No, Thalia and Maxwell Lee are in charge while we're gone."

My eyes widened in disbelief. Thalia was as grumpy and crusty as a vampire could get without being locked in a box. She was beautiful and ancient, and she'd just as soon step over your body as check if you were alive. And Maxwell Lee was an accountant. A vampire accountant. Enough said. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Bill shrugged. "Business as usual. If Fangtasia closed, even for only a few days, it would draw attention that we don't need right now."

"We?" I asked. Bill and Eric were far from pals. He hated even stepping foot in Fangtasia.

"Sookie, none of us are above Victor's rule. Especially you."

"You coulda got someone else to come with us," I grumbled.

He gave me that same look Eric always did, like was a dolt. "It isn't my place to offer life favors on Eric's behalf."

"But it's Pam's."

"Pam is not seeing things rationally right now."

"Yeah, no kidding," I scoffed. Personal attacks aside, Thalia and Maxwell Lee being in charge of the bar was questionable, and that was putting it nicely. "So then why are you going?"

"To protect you."

I rolled my eyes - why did I bother asking that question when I already knew the answer? He didn't let me even start to complain.

"Sookie, listen to me. Pam knows that she cannot defeat Eric's captors alone, and that's the only reason why she has acquiesced to my coming at all."

"I know that, Bill."

"This is not a rescue mission for me." he said, giving me one of those intense Bill looks. "This is a mission to keep you alive. There is no way of knowing what kind of condition Eric will be in by the time we find him, and you cannot count on Pam protecting you."

I hated those looks. They used to make my knees weak, then for a while they made me want to punch him square on his nose. But now, it made me feel something else. For the first time in two years, I could finally look back at Bill and think that he was telling me the truth.

"Damn it," I said as I exhaled. I knew Pam was mad at me, but I refused to believe she would actually hurt me or let me be hurt. "Eric and I are bonded though. If I get hurt, then so does he."

"Many vampires have survived the death of their human companions," Bill said. "The same cannot be said of the humans." 

"Yeah well, I'm not all together human. Ya'll seem to forget that sometimes."

He chuckled, amused by my snippy comment. "They'd smell you coming a mile away."

"Eric would never forgive her if she let something happen to me," I said defensively. "I've heard them arguing about it."

"She'd sell you to an Arab trader if that meant saving Eric. You are a threat to her."

"Hardly."

"Not physically, emotionally," he insisted. "You are her equal now, and that does not bide well with her, trust me. You must ask yourself - who would he chose if he could only save one of you?"

The words caught in my throat and my mouth slowly closed. When had I become the evil stepmother? It took me a long moment to reply in a very small, humble voice, "I don't know."

"And that is why I am here." He sat back, his point obviously made.

We sat in silence for a few minutes as I stared out the window again. The sky was beginning to brighten and I knew he was fighting to stay awake. This was the longest conversation we'd had in months, about anything other than the weather or the berry growing season. We'd talked several times about his house guest, Judith, but that always led to uncomfortable questions and answers I simply didn't want to know. I wanted Bill to be happy, of course, and I was the one who had arranged for his "sister" to come visit, but I drew the line at hearing the details of their relationship. I had my dignity after all.

"You love him." It was the first time he'd ever admitted that without grinding his fangs.

I turned back to him. "I really do."

He slowly nodded, a vacant look in his eyes. "I know I have lost my chance to be with you, though you are still in my heart."

"Bill-"

He kept going, determined to get it out. "You may not be mine any longer, but I will never give up on you, Sookie. I don't trust Pam, and I have never trusted Eric. I know this is a lot to ask of you, but I need you to trust me now."

I scrunched my eyebrows together and looked at him carefully. I could see nothing but honesty in his eyes. Gran called it being earnest. I realized that I really wanted to believe in him again, believe that there was a good honest person left in there somewhere. I suppose I knew that all along, I knew he was following orders that he had no way of denying. Falling in love with me was his punishment and he was gonna have to live with that every day of his life. I'd gotten used to it, that feeling in your stomach when you realize someone has betrayed you. It had faded over time, like the scars on my body, but it would always be there as a tiny reminder my past. Maybe for Bill, it would never fade. Maybe it would be like an open wound until he found a way to get over what he'd done to me.

I gave him a small smile. "Just let me think about all of this for a spell, okay?"

"Of course," he nodded. "I'll go to rest now."

The remainder of the flight was spent in blessed silence. I was alone with my thoughts and three travel coffins, one of which was conspicuously empty. We stopped for fuel somewhere in England. The customs officer came right to the plan, no waiting on line required. He checked our passports and smiled as he left. Talk about lifestyles of the rich and dead.

We had a layover in a guarded hanger so that when we landed in Sweden, it would be nighttime. I would've never thought of that, but I guessed that was a standard pain in the ass sort of thing that traveling vampires had to deal with. I slept lightly, not letting myself really knock out. I didn't want to have another dream.

When the pilot announced we'd be landing soon, I decided to go through the bag that was onboard for me. I wasn't at all surprised to find a vast assortment of lacey and/or silky undergarments, some of which embarrassed me by just looking at them. But I was actually impressed with the clothing options. I could tell that we would be facing some colder weather than I was used to. I chose a high neck cashmere sweater in a lovely shade of periwinkle and put on a fresh new pair of jeans. There was also a puffy tan waistcoat with a big fur collar and a pair of suede booties, all in my exact sizes of course. I put my hair in a quick braid, just to keep it out of my face.

By the time I exited the little bathroom, Pam and Bill were up and shuffling around. They were packing all sorts of weapons, which I hadn't noticed before. Stakes, crossbows, guns longer than my arm. Were those grenades Bill had just tossed into a duffel bag?

"Jesus Christ, Sheppard of Judea," I mumbled to myself.

Pam looked up from the foot-long blade she was sheathing and gave a wistful sort of smile. "Nope, just us vampires." She had also changed, I noticed, and looked much more put-together than when we left. That is to say, she didn't look like she wanted to pull my head off anymore. She was wearing a fitted leather jacket, black leather pants, and knee high combat boots.

She looked me up and down and said, "You look like the Swiss Miss girl."

"You look like Saks had an S&M sale."

"Good, then I got it right," she said with a straight face. "My safety word is apples."

I smiled a little at her. For an instant, I thought she was going to smile back, but then she turned her back to me and zipped up the bag she was packing. "Are we ready?" she asked.

"We are," Bill replied. He had also changed, though his outfit was a little less lycan hunter and a little more bounty hunter. Dark jeans under a black canvas duster jacket. He was in the process of concealing several handguns and a bunch of stakes, when he noticed that I was staring at him. "We have weapons for you too."

"No thanks," I gulped. "I'll wait 'til I see the white of their eyes."

"What?" Pam asked.

"Never mind." I threw the strap of my bag over my shoulder and walked past both of them. "Let's get going before one of ya'll gets put on the no-fly list."

We didn't speak a word as we stepped off the plane and walked out into a private hanger, this time with no customs officer present at all. There was a black SUV parked on the other side, engine idling. Someone was waiting for us.

A wall of a man climbed out of the car and stood next to it, his arms crossed over his massive chest. Dressed in all black combat clothing, he was striking, in a comic book hero sort of way. He looked like he should've been wearing a silver helmet and holding a giant hammer. His blonde hair was swept back over his shoulders and his eyes were wide and alert. I knew in an instant he was a vamp. He could've been Eric's giant twin brother.

Pam extended her hand to the man and they locked forearms for a second. Viking handshake, I supposed. "Sorren," she said with a solemn nod.

"Pamela Ravenscroft," he nodded in return. "It's been a long time,_ min harliga jungfru_."

"It sure has." She smiled and tilted her hips just a bit. The man grinned as his fingers lingered on her arm. "This is Sorren Andersson," she said, turning to Bill and I. "He's a old friend of Eric's. He's agreed to help us."

"How old?" I asked.

Sorren looked at me, one eyebrow lifted. "Very old," he simply replied. "You must be the _frun._ Eric has told me much about you."

He grabbed my arm and held it as he had done to Pam. "I'm Sookie, nice to meet you," I said, because I didn't like the sound of that _frun _word.

I heard him inhale deeply as he stepped back, and he let out a light chuckle. "Ah, now I understand."

I was about to start my usual Eric-doesn't-love-me-just-because-I'm-a-faerie speech, when Bill cleared his throat.

"Oh, and this is Bill," Pam said as a throwaway.

"Yes," Sorren said, the smile fading from his enormous face. "I have also heard of Bill." He did not extend his arm this time.

We packed the bags into the rear of the SUV, and Pam climbed into the passenger's seat, leaving Bill and I no choice but to sit next to each other in the back. Being that close to him and smelling his scent was stirring up strange, uncomfortable feelings in my stomach. I knew he'd forfeit his own life to save mine, but I also knew he could lie to me with a straight up poker face.

I looked to Bill, and saw that he was staring at me. Then I realized that Pam and Sorren were turned around, staring at me as well. "What?" I cried.

Pam rolled her eyes. "What do you mean _what_?" she said, doing her best imitation of a dumb southerner. "You're the one getting the transmissions right now, not me. Which way, Sherlock?"

They all waited for a response. And waited.

I listened carefully, sat very still and waited for the pull from Eric. I sent out my feelers and called out to him, but all I got was barely a buzz in return. He was out there, somewhere, his blood slowly pumping and sending me a faint signal. But his brain, his emotions, weren't telling me a damn thing.

I plastered on my best crazy Sookie smile, because I had absolutely no idea what to do next.

_**A/N: Eric will be back soon, I promise. By the way, can anyone name that tune?**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Could you name that tune? A few of you got it- it's Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight) by the SWEDISH super group ABBA. They're the best thing out of Sweden, next to the Skarsgard family that is.**_

_**Sooooo, the game is afoot, and I know not having Eric around is awful. I want him back too, but it wouldn't be any fun if Sookie, Pam, and Bill didn't get to torture each other for at least a little while. Don't fret, Sookie will continue to have those dreams, perhaps a few of them full of lemony goodness. In the meantime, we will meet a few other characters and get to know our new friend, Sorren. Picture him as that yummy guy in the Thor movie, and add 30 lbs. of muscle and a set of fangs.**_

_**BTW, did anyone get the "apples is my safe word" reference?**_

_**As always, props to Ms. Harris.**_

**Chapter Six**

There was silence in the car. All we heard was the distant sound of airplanes landing and taking off.

"Anything?"

"No."

More silence. A few minutes passed.

"Well?"

I sighed impatiently. "No, Pam, nothing."

Sorren drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, tapping out a rhythm over and over again. The radio had long since been banned. Pam turned to him, glared like a vulture, and then he stopped. "Ye Gods, woman, you've lost your sense of humor."

"I have not," she grumbled. Then for good measure, she added, "Shut up."

We'd moved away from the runway to a quieter location, despite the fact that I insisted it wasn't like a radio signal I could just turn the volume up on. Apparently, Pam and Sorren were a little annoyed at me and they didn't care what I said. Bill, on the other hand, was doing his best impression of a seat cushion. So we parked in a small car pool lot and sat in extremely uncomfortable silence.

"Where are we anyway?" I finally asked.

"Just outside Kalmar," Sorren answered.

Oh right, Kalmar. I rolled my eyes - thanks for the info. "Why here?"

"This is the airport Eric always uses," Pam said, her voice flat and tired sounding. "It's the only thing I have to go on."

It surprised me that Eric had never brought Pam to his village, in all their years together. Granted, it had taken a fae war, several near-death experiences, and _a lot_ of sex before Eric had shared anything about his human life with me. But surely they'd been through all that and more. If she wasn't acting just about as pleasant a pit viper, I would have asked her about it.

I was also curious about the presence of Sorren. It seemed that him and Pam had been special friends at one point, which told me that he'd probably spent some time out of Sweden with them. He definitely had the air of someone Eric would find amusing. I could picture them arm wrestling and exchanging dirty stories. He obviously knew who I was, which meant that Eric had seen him since we'd met, maybe on that trip when he'd acquired Elsa the cat. I wondered what kind of embarrassing details had been shared between old friends, and it made me blush.

I was sitting behind Pam. I could she her face in the mirrors when she looked back at me. "Can _you_ feel anything?" I asked sheepishly, my voice very low. I knew she would hear me anyway.

She stared out her open window and closed her eyes for a few seconds. "He lives. He's not very far from here, but if he doesn't call to me, there's way to pinpoint his location."

I was feeling the same thing. I leaned out my own window, resting my chin on my arm. I inhaled deeply and found the air so different from home. It was frosty and crisp, while the air in Bon Temps was always heavy and smelled of mossy things. I wanted so bad to smell Eric's soap or his hair or his leather jacket on the wind. I wanted to just be able to point my finger and say _he's there, _but of course that wasn't happening.

"Might I suggest we retire to the hotel?" Bill said after a few more minutes of quiet. "There, at least we can unpack and get our wits about us."

"I agree," said Sorren. "We need a battle plan."

"Battle plan?" I exclaimed, looking up.

He turned around and had that look in his eyes, that look Eric got just before he ripped someone's throat out. "_Ja_."

"We haven't even figured out where he is and you're already planning an invasion?"

Sorren snorted. "Don't be naive, _liten flicka. _A warrior is always prepared for battle."

"But we don't even know who has him," I persisted. "How can we prepare for that?"

"You must plan for all possibilities."

"Well, that sounds like a waste of time," I said. "We need to scope things out first, do some reconnaissance." (Word of the day, thank you very much.)

"Is she always like this?" Sorren asked under his breath.

"Yes," Bill and Pam replied in unison.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "He must have to hold her mouth shut in bed."

"Hey," I snapped. "Listen here, Thor - the role of snarky sidekick has already been taken. If I want to be insulted, I'll ask Pam."

He laughed even harder, holding his stomach like jolly, drunk Viking. Bill grasped my shoulder and eased me back into the seat, but I shook off his hand. Just what I wanted in my greatest time of need - a smart ass vampire tour guide. I knew he was with us because he could be trusted, but I quietly reminded myself that there were plenty of vampires in Eric's retinue that I didn't like. I decided to withhold judgment on the Viking comedian until I knew more about him.

I looked to Pam. I could see her smiling in the mirror. I didn't care of it was at my expense or not, she was actually smiling.

Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"Alright," Pam said, putting up her window. "We'll go to the hotel, and _I'll _decide what we do next."

We drove for about fifteen minutes, until we passed through an ancient wall that surrounded the city of Kalmar. The streets were alive with shuffling pedestrians and the hustle of outdoor cafes. It was a very old town, I could tell by the style of the buildings. We drove by an enormous cathedral and I thought I'd like to visit it, under different circumstances.

The hotel was more like an old style inn. It was a white stone building with dark timbers along the corners and under the widows. The glass in the windows was thick and bubbly and it reminded me of a house in a fairytale. There was a sign hanging over the door with a coat of arms on it and the word _Vitdraken. _

It was a white dragon on a field of blue, just like I'd seen on the boat in my dream.

"Has Eric been here before?" I asked, trying to sound casual about it.

"Many times," Sorren replied, tossing the car keys to a young man in a black vest. "He always stays here when he visits. Why?"

I stared at the sign, slowly swinging in the wind. "Just wondering," I said. I was keeping my hand hidden, for the time being. They already thought I was crazy enough.

"Welcome to _Hotell Vitdraken," _said another man. He had a thick accent, but his English was good, bless the Lord. He was stocky and a bit on the short side and had a nice smile. Inclining his head to Sorren, he said, "It's always good to see you, _Herr_ Andersson."

"And you, Greger." Sorren gave the smaller man a hefty pat on the shoulder, which Greger took in stride.

He turned to us as the valet and a bellboy started to unload our luggage. "Welcome, Ms. Ravenscroft, Mrs. Northman. We've been expecting you."

_Excuse me? Who now?_

I was about to open my mouth to protest, when Pam stepped in front of me and started doing all the talking. She was good at that. "Hello, Greger is it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Greger, we're gonna need another room tonight."

"We are here to serve. Follow me, please, and Isak will check you in."

The four of us followed Greger inside. I gave Pam a _what the hell _look, but she just shook her head and kept walking. Vampire lingo for _keep your mouth shut_.

When I entered the lobby, I looked around in complete awe. It was like stepping back in time. There were tapestries hanging on the stone walls, opulent chandeliers and candelabras in every nook. The air smelled of melting wax and fresh flowers. To our left, there was a doorway leading to a bustling pub. Yet I also saw sleek computer screens and blinking security panels and cleverly hidden cameras. This was no ordinary hotel. It was a vamp-friendly hotel, like the one I'd stayed in while I was in Rhodes. No doubt, the windows were UV-proofed, and the place was actually more secure than a fortress. Upon closer inspection, I noticed a neon True Blood sign hanging over the bar. I closed my eyes, listened for a second, and realized there were blank spaces all around me. There was one directly in front of me.

I flicked my eyes open and saw a vamp standing behind the concierge desk. He was tall and way too thin for his height, with slicked black hair and dark eyes. Dressed in a black suit like all of the other employees, he was smiling expectantly at us. He wasn't sweet looking like Greger though. I'd met a lot of sinister vampires over the last few years, but he truly reminded me of Count Dracula. _I bid you welcome... _

"Good evening. I am Isak, your evening concierge. Passports please?" He held out his pale hand and his long fingers uncurled like skin-covered bones.

Isak was officially creepy.

We stood there as he looked over our passports and typed on his keyboard. "Ms. Ravenscroft, Mr. Compton." He handed them back their passports, but he kept mine. He looked at it closely and one of his thick eyebrows arched. "Mrs. - Northman?"

It said Stackhouse. Shit.

"Newlyweds," Pam said, rolling her eyes. "Haven't got the paperwork yet. You know how it is in the States." I distinctly heard her English accent coming out.

"Yes, well, Mr. Northman never mentioned his wife visiting, with all due respect."

"It as a last minute decision," she went on. "I'm his business partner, I can assure you-"

"Still, you must understand, Miss Ravenscroft," Isak said, barely concealing a sneer. "Security is a top priority when Mr. Northman stays with us."

"Well then, why don't you wait for Mr. Northman to come back and explain to him why his wife is waiting in the lobby, while the rest of us are upstairs taking naps in our rooms," Pam said with a wide smile, her voice dripping with innuendo. "With all due respect."

Isak cleared his throat and we were all very still for a moment. Yet another vampire showdown. If I could read his mind, I bet I'd see an image of Eric ripping off his arm and beating him over the head with it. I smiled along with Pam. Sorren was stifling a snicker. Bill just stood there with an itchy set of fangs.

"An oversight, I'm sure," Isak finally said and handed me the passport. "Mr. Compton and Ms. Ravenscroft, you will be on the third floor. Mr. Andersson, you will be in your usual room on the fourth floor. And Mrs. Northman, you will of course be sharing the King's Suite with your husband, located on the fifth floor."

"Of course," I smiled.

We gloated silence as Isak typed away, then handed us each our own keycards. "Greger will show you to your rooms."

Pam winked at him. "You're a peach."

We followed Greger to the elevator and piled in. Sorren's laughter rang out so loud that it echoed around us as the door slid shut.

"My apologies," Greger quickly said, obviously annoyed and flustered. "Isak has been with the hotel for many, many years. He's a bit old fashioned."

"He's got a stick up his ass," Sorren roared, in near hysterics.

"Yes, that too," Greger admitted.

One by one, we were led to our rooms. Bill tried to pry his way back into the elevator, but I just rolled my eyes and waved as the door closed in front of him. After another stop, it was just Greger and I standing together.

"You must use your keycard, Mrs. Northman," he explained, pointing to the panel. Next to the number 5 was a slot just the right size for my card. "This is the only way to access your floor, ma'am."

"Is there anybody else up there?" I asked, sliding the card in and out again when the light turned green.

"The King's suite is the entire fifth floor, ma'am," he replied with a smile.

"You mean it's the only room?"

"Yes ma'am."

I smiled back, shaking my head. "That sounds like Eric alright."

The shiny brass door opened and he gestured for me to lead the way. I stepped out and saw that the suite was just as elegant and regal looking as the lobby. Everywhere I looked was shining with gold. Fresh cut flowers bloomed in crystal vases on every surface. Fabrics in deep, regal shades of red and purple covered the furniture. There was a dining room with a long table to the left, and a sitting room with a huge entertainment center to the right. What lay beyond that, I couldn't see. My suitcases were already waiting by the entrance way. Or, in the foyer I should say.

"Shall I bring your bags to the master bedroom, ma'am?"

"There's more than one?" I asked.

"There are three," he replied.

"Is that the one Eric sleeps in?" My voice was softer now. Not amazed anymore, just cheerless.

"Yes ma'am."

I sighed. "Alright."

As I followed him, I suddenly became aware of Eric's belongings scattered about. There was a pile of paperwork and photographs on the dining room table. He'd left a book out, face down on a coffee table next to an empty bottle of True Blood. A black jacket, the leather one he'd been wearing only two nights earlier at my house, was thrown over the back of an arm chair. I picked it up on impulse and hugged it close to me as we walked into the master bedroom.

That's when I really started to lose it.

The bed was unmade, the sheets and pillows still showing the slight imprint of his long body. The closet door was open, revealing clothes that were all too familiar. A pair of his favorite beat-up flip flops were tossed by the end of the bed. A glance into the master bath showed me his hairbrush and cologne on the countertop. A towel was carelessly tossed on the floor next to the shower.

This is all wrong, I thought as I squeezed the jacket. Waves of anxiety overcame my body and my stomach began to flutter. First of all, Eric was a neat freak. He had his Shreveport house cleaned every week and even his office at Fangtasia was tidy. He would never leave his hotel room like this. Second of all, it looked like he'd been unpacked and settled in for days, when we knew he could've only been here for a matter of hours before was ever happened actually happened.

"Greger, was anybody else in this room besides Mr. Northman?"

"No ma'am, it's a secure floor. Only Mr. Northman and yourself have access."

"What about the staff?" I asked.

"The cleaning staff only comes in when Mr. Northman requests them, which is usually after he leaves." he replied. "After his visit several months ago, he asked that the suite not be disturbed until his return."

"And nobody else has stayed up here since then?"

"Nobody ever stays here. Mr. Northman owns the whole floor."

My brows furrowed. "Oh." Some wife I was shaping up to be.

Greger placed my bags on a luggage stand in the walk- in closet. When he came back out, my emotions were running up and down both my sleeves, and tears were running down my face.

He looked at me sympathetically. "Please don't cry, Miss Stackhouse."

"...What?"

"Mr. Northman told me a great deal about you last time he was here, with your cat, I believe." He handed me a handkerchief from his lapel pocket, which I took wearily.

"He told me not to trust anyone." I said stiffly.

"Then I will have to earn your trust, just as I did Mr. Northman's," he said matter-of-factly. "I have worked at this hotel since I was a boy. My father was concierge before me, and his father before him. I have been Mr. Northman's personal concierge ever since the Great Revelation, though I knew him many more years before that."

I gingerly dabbed my face, and listened in on his brain for a moment. _She looks so sad...she may truly love him..._ _maybe she knows more than she says...Gods, I'm so tired... I could look by the piers tonight, then get a few hours of sleep before my shift...what if I'm not here when he returns...he may need blood...Pam is as lovely as he said she was...she will be helpful... so tired...my feet hurt..._

I turned away and closed my mind. I'd look in on him a few more times, but for the moment, I felt at ease with Greger.

"What do you do when Mr. Northman isn't here?" I asked him.

"I'm the day concierge, ma'am," he said. "I knew you were coming and I wanted to welcome you myself."

"What about...Isak?"

Greger smiled slightly, clearing his throat. "Mr. Northman prefers my services, ma'am."

I smiled back. "I think I can understand that. And I'm no ma'am. Call me Sookie?"

"That wouldn't be appropriate , I'm afraid," he said. "I have always called Mr. Northman by his surname."

"Well, you can't call me Miss Stackhouse around here. I guess I'll just have to get used to being Mrs. Eric Northman for a while," I said with a shrug.

"Would that be such a terrible thing?"

Talk about a loaded question. I rolled my eyes and let out a loud, nervous laugh. "Ask me again in a few days."

He continued to show me around the suite. As I walked behind him, only half listening, I noticed many little touches that I recognized as Eric's. California king size beds in every bedroom, desks laden with MP3 players and laptops, a shelf full of books with well-worn spines. It was an enormous space, big enough for all of us to stay in comfortably. I couldn't imagine being there by myself, surrounded by Eric's presence.

"Is there anything else I can help you with before I leave?" Greger asked as we walked back toward the elevator. "Shall I have the kitchen bring you a meal?"

I realized how hungry I was when I thought of food. I hadn't eaten anything since the bag of pretzels on the plane. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Something from the list?"

"List?" I asked.

"The list Mr. Northman gave me, in case you should ever visit with him," he explained. "Preferred foods, sundries, clothing sizes."

I smiled, despite my mood. And he made fun of Bill for being a Boy Scout. "I'm sure whatever they make will be fine," I said, with a little warm feeling spreading in my chest. Mrs. Eric Northman would certainly be taken care of, that was for sure. I wondered why it touched my heart now, when before it seemed annoying and overbearing.

He stepped onto the elevator, saying, "Just hit the call button on your panel when the kitchen staff buzzes. You'll be able to see from the monitor. They'll know to show their ID's."

"Aright." I leaned against the door to keep it from closing and asked, "Greger, did Mr. Northman have any visitors while he was here?"

"Not that I'm aware of, ma'am. He was only here a brief time before -" He stopped himself mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open.

"Before he left?" I supplied.

He went with it. "Yes, before he left. It is possible that I missed someone, but they would've never gotten past the front desk, let alone the elevator. I'll check the surveillance records before I go, just to be sure."

"Thank you, that's awful nice of you," I said. "There is one other thing you could do for me, if you wouldn't mind. I hate to be a bother."

"Anything, no bother at all."

"Could you give a cardkey for the elevator to Pam?" He looked suspicious, and was about to protest when I interjected, "Mr. Northman would want Pam here with me. I'm sure you're aware of who she is. She'd be up here with him if Eric was here."

"But he's not, ma'am."

I let out a long sigh. "Well, Greger," I said gently, "We're gonna have to fix that, aren't we?"

He stood there, sizing me up. It seemed that he was wondering the same things about me that I was wondering about him. I've been told that I have an honest face, and God knows I'm a terrible liar. Maybe he was a good judge of character, or very trusting, or just tired. He sort of smiled, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I saw a glint of recognition in his eyes and I knew he felt the same hope I did. For just a moment, he wasn't Greger the concierge, he was just a worried friend.

"Yes ma'am, we are."

Then the moment was gone. He straightened his black jacket and stood a little straighter. "I'll get the keycard for Ms. Ravenscroft made now."

I let go of the door and nodded. "Thank you, Greger."

"Thank you, Miss Stackhouse." The door slid shut.

I think I was going to like Greger.

I turned around and faced the giant room before me. Now, I'd gotten used to the finer things in life, though I would never admit that to a soul. I still loved going home to my house on Hummingbird Lane, but I found my occasional dips into luxury refreshing. This was different though. This was lonely and bittersweet luxury, and I had no idea what to do with myself facing it alone. Eric, or even Bill, had always been with me when I'd been to places like this in the past.

I wandered over to a couch in the sitting area and plopped down on it. It was soft and plush, but not too cushy. Eric hated squishy seats. Looking down at the coffee table, I saw the title of the book he was reading. _A Clash of Kings. _He was always reading books about knights and castles, and he had hundreds of nonfiction books about ancient kingdoms and fearsome rulers back at home.

Why was I thinking about all of these meaningless things? Books and furniture, who cared? My brain wasn't working right. I felt like I was stuck on pause, like someone hit the pause button right before a very important moment in the story of my life.

I shook my head and groaned. Was being in denial a form of craziness?

I walked into the bedroom and sat down on his giant bed. I realized I was still holding Eric's jacket in my arms. I lifted to my face and deeply inhaled his scent. It smelled like Bleu De Chanel, his favorite cologne, and now mine. But it was so many other things I smelled, sitting in his bed and being surrounded by his things. Fresh air, old leather, a hint of smoke from the bar. I wrapped his jacket around myself and laid my head down on his pillows. And then I cried.

I laid there and felt the faint whisperings of Eric's dwindling life, and I cried. I cried until the pillow was wet and my chest was sore from heaving.

A while passed, and I was almost asleep, my body simply exhausted. I heard the elevator open and then the sound of knee-high Laura Croft boots on the floor. I didn't bother getting up, because I wasn't in the mood for fighting or being threatened again. I just laid there as Pam walked up to the bed, and resumed my bawling.

She waited a while before she said something. "You're leaking again."

"Yeah."

"That's his favorite jacket."

"I know."

"He'll be pissed if you ruin it with your snot."

Anger shot through my veins and I sat upright. Why that moment? Why did she have to be nasty to me, even now as my body was shaking with grief? I was about to curse her out, when I saw a blood tear running down her cheek. It landed on the sheet next to my leg.

I stared at the spot for a second, then gave her the handkerchief that was still grasped in my fist. She wiped her cheek, but only managed to smear the blood over most of her face.

"You coulda warned me about the Mrs. Northman thing, you know."

"Slipped my mind," she shrugged. I gave her a _yeah right _frown and she admitted, "It was the only way to get us up here, Sookie."

"Stay with me then," I said, my voice cracking with emotion. "There's other bedrooms."

"I've promised Sorren."

I didn't smile, but I wanted to. "He's not your usual type, Pam."

"Oh, you know me," she said as she blotted under her eyes, gently wiping off some smudged mascara. "I bend with the wind."

"Right. He looks pretty bendy too."

We looked at each other, and then we both let tiny smiles ease onto our faces.

"We'll be back in a few hours," she said, tossing the cloth into a waste bin next to the night stand. "Get yourself together, you look like shit."

She closed the bedroom door behind her as she walked out. That could mean only one thing. They were going hunting. True Blood wasn't good enough for what we were facing.

It was going to be another long night.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews and PM's, especially the anonymous ones I can't respond to. I like to respond to as many as I can, but my children are UBER-demanding this week (school's out) and I want to spend as much time as I can trying to pump the story out. The summer camp season is almost upon us as well, and my little kiddies are calling to me. Being a camp director is fun, but very time consuming . I'll try to update every week, but the next month or so is gonna be pretty busy for me. Keep the reviews coming though, they really help my writing process. My muse has a huge ego! ;)**_

_**Btw, I'm glad you guys like my new characters. I'm particularly fond of Sorren myself. Thor is HOOOOOOT! There will be a few more in Chapter Eight. **_

**Chapter Seven**

I was on a beach.

The sun was high in the air above my head, and it was hot. It was a tropical beach, with wild foliage spilling over onto the sand and bendy palm trees that you could sit in the crook of. I heard the sounds of a steaming jungle in one ear, and crashing waves in the other. The air was ripe with the smell of fruit and sea spray.

I walked barefoot over plies of dried seaweed and crushed seashells, when I began to notice debris on the sand as well. Broken planks, lengths of rope, tattered pieces of a blue sail. A wave chased away a mass of land crabs, and then I could see the head of a white dragon.

I gasped and looked all around me, covering my eyes from the glaring sun. There, very far down the beach, I could just make out the shape of a broken hull jutting out of the water. I ran as fast as my tender feet would allow me, but I kept stumbling over rocks and shattered wood. The closer I got, the more scared I became. My breathing grew ragged and I felt sweat sliding down my face. I tripped again and landed inches away from the edge of a long broadsword that lay gleaming in the surf.

"Eric," I said, breathlessly. Then a little louder. "Eric?"

Something shiny caught the corner of my eye, a reflection. There was a man laying in the sand.

"Eric!" I screamed, scrambling to my feet. My dress was soaked and covered in wet sand and the beach seemed to get longer with every step I took. The muscles in my legs burned as I trudged my way onto dry sand, but I could finally see him. He was nearly naked, his furs and leathers cast off in a stiff pile nearby. His calfskin pants had been ripped off above his knees.

Prepared for the worst, I collapsed next to him. I realized instantly that he was alive and looked down at him, stumped for words. Not only was he sunbathing, but he was wearing polished aviator sunglasses, and resting comfortably with his hands behind his head. I could still see the battle wounds on his face, and some over other parts of his body, but they were greatly healed now. His skin was golden brown and he was softly singing to himself. Who would've guessed he had such a nice singing voice?

_"As the son of a son of a sailor, I went out on the sea for adventure. Expanding the view of the captain and crew like a man just released from indenture." _

"Eric," I asked. "What are you doing?"

_"I'm just the son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor. The sea's in my veins, my tradition remains. I'm just glad I don't live in a-"_

I shook his shoulder and exclaimed, "Eric!"

He glanced at me with a sour look of surprise, like he had just noticed I was in his light. He took off his sunglasses, and realized who was talking to him. "Oh, you're back."

"I guess. What happened to the boat?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I got tired of waiting."

"For the Valkaries?"

"For all of it," he replied, replacing the shades. "I thought I was on my way, but they just left me on that boat, Sookie. I was just floating out there for days. I was lucky the island showed up."

"What do you mean, showed up?"

"One second the seas was glass, the next there was an island in front of me," he said, sitting up on his elbows. He was much more lucid now, not passive and weak as he'd been on the boat. "I'm afraid my sailing skills aren't what they once were. The boat broke apart at the breakwaters."

"So then you're not dying anymore?" My voice was filled with excitement and I huddled closer to his warm body. My God, _he was warm. _

"Oh, I'm dying," he said with a sigh. "They'll see to that."

"Who's they, Eric?" I asked. "Who's got you?"

He smiled and tapped the tip of my nose with his forefinger. "I can't tell you that. That would be far too easy."

I gazed down at his broad chest, glistening with sweat, and laid my hand down on him. "Why can't it be easy?"

"It can be, if you want."

He was on top of me in an instant, rolling my back against the warm sand and rubbing his body against mine. He licked the sweat off my neck and reached for the hem of my dress. His long, sun bleached hair fell around me like a halo and all I could see was his smiling face. I reached up to caress his cheek and he leaned into my touch, gently kissing my wrist. His hand ran up the inside of my thigh and snapped at my panties. The breath caught in my throat as I felt his fingers pulling aside the wet fabric.

I wanted to be here. I wanted to be here. But...no, I wanted to do this.

But...

"Wait," I said, pushing his hands away.

"No, now. There's no time," he said, smothering my lips between words.

"Eric, stop," I cried out. "This isn't right."

"This will last for eternity." He became more insistent, kissing the tops of my breasts. "I will take it with me."

"No," I shrieked. "This isn't why I'm here!" I punched his chest and kneed at his ribs, until he let out a loud cry of pain and fell off me onto the sand. I clambered onto my knees and watched as he writhed in pain. I surely hadn't hit him that hard.

He held his ribcage and I saw blood ooze from between his fingers. He looked up at me and his face was once again bruised and inflamed. The color had drained from his skin and he suddenly looked emaciated. The sparkle in his eyes had dulled.

"Sookie..." he managed to mumble. Lifting his hands, he exposed a gaping hole in his side.

"Oh, my Jesus," I gasped, tears welling in my eyes. "Who did this to you?"

He rolled onto his back, blood sputtering from his mouth. "They'll kill you," was all he could manage.

"Where are you, Eric?" I leaned over him and spoke in a loud, demanding voice. "Call to me again. Call to me and I'll find you."

"Stay away. They'll kill you."

My tears fell onto his face as I began to weep. "I'm so close to you, Eric.," I cried frantically. "Please call to me again."

He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me down to his level in an instant. "I didn't call you."

I woke up crying. I wanted to sink back into the dream and demand to know where he was, but I knew that wouldn't happen. My heart was racing. I pulled at my sweater, it was choking me. My body was aching from Eric's phantom touch. It had seemed so real. I smelled the coconuts and seaweed. I felt the sun heating my skin. Most of my dreams were jumbled like a Picasso, and they were always hard for me to decipher the next day. I figured it was because my brain was tired of working overtime all day. But this one was different, it was vivid and coherent. I could taste my own sweat on his lips. His skin warm and lightly crusted with fine white sand.

Was this just my brain reacting to stress, or was Eric really talking to me through my dreams? That notion seemed ridiculous even to me. Then again, lots of things in my life at that moment were ridiculous. Why would he say _I didn't call you_? Or, why would I think that?

For a fleeting moment, Eric had been human. And it again made me, was it his brain or mine?

There was a soft knocking on the bedroom door. I sat up a little, and realized that I'd fallen asleep with the lights on and my shoes still zipped. I'd only planned on laying down for a second, to calm myself and clear my head.

Another knock. I cleared my throat and wiped my face off before calling out in a crackly voice, "Uh, come in."

The door opened just enough for Bill to poke his head in. "May I enter?"

Seeing as I was still in my clothes and wide awake, I decided to be nice. "Yeah, I guess."

He closed the door behind him and slowly walked over to me. Pointing toward the foot of the bed, I nodded and he sat down. He was keeping his distance, having apparently learned his lesson on the plane. "I heard you stirring."

"I had a bad dream," I said dismissively. ''What time is it?" I asked, looking around and realizing for the first time that there was no clocks or windows.

"A little after three."

"Jeez," I sighed. I'd been asleep for over four hours. When you're with vampires, four hours significantly cuts down your time for evening activities. "What've you guys been doing?"

"We fed. Sorren took us to a bar where the humans just line up and wait to be taken," he said with a shake of his head. "They even had a menu."

"That's gross."

"It's different, that's all. I told you that things would be different."

I took a moment to look at him. He'd changed out of his earlier get-up, so I supposed there'd be no vampire hunting that night. He'd settled on his usual khaki pants and classic but comfortable button-up oxford. I recognized an old Grateful Dead tee shirt peeking out from the collar. Everything about him was familiar because he never really changed. The clothes and styles would wear out before Bill did. It was all just too familiar for me to ever be truly comfortable sitting alone with him. If I said the word, he'd be on me like a bear licking a honey comb. In some very tiny corner of my mind, that would always be nice to know. This was an extremely tiny corner however, one that left just enough room for me to attempt having a friendship with him.

"You've been crying," he observed. He looked down at Eric's jacket, still swaddling me, and pretended that it didn't bother him.

"I cry a lot," I replied dryly.

"More lately."

"No," I said. "Not as much as I have before."

He sighed, looking down with guilt smacked all over his face. "It will always comes back to that."

"Not always," I said honestly. "I don't want things to be like this. But you keep bringing it back, and I'm tired of going there with you, Bill."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are." That's not what he was apologizing for, but I said it anyway. "Why'd you come in here?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Habit."

"Habit?" My eyebrows raised up.

"Checking on you, making sure you're well."

I shook my head, but smiled a little anyway. "Well, it's a bad habit."

"I am aware of that," he said, also smiling. He stood up then, smoothing out his pants. He knew my limits, even if he was able to make a joke of it now. "You have food waiting for you. The others are here, so you know. We've discovered a few things you'll be interested in."

I reluctantly left Eric's coat on the bed and followed Bill out. Pam and Sorren were sitting at the dining room table, pouring over all of the stuff I'd just walked by earlier. Bill sat down next to Pam, which I suspected was a diplomatic move on his part. There was an empty chair next to Sorren, and next to the chair was a room service cart. My stomach growled just looking at it.

He gestured grandly to the chair. "Mrs. Northman."

I rolled my eyes as I sat down. "So, what have you guys found?" I asked, opening the silver dome and trying very hard to contain my glee upon seeing my Eric-approved meal. Turkey and bacon club sandwich, fries, and a pile of pickles. I took a gulp from a sweating glass of sweet tea and smiled. The fries were cold, but I didn't care. I poured on some ketchup and started chowing. When I looked up, they were all staring at me.

"What?" I cried, my mouth full of potato. "You guys already ate, gosh."

Bill cleared his throat. "I was telling Sookie that we've made several discoveries. "

"Yes, we have," Pam said. "Apparently, your boyfriend has been very busy."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I didn't like the tone in her voice one bit. Her usual tone of sarcasm was sounding more bitter than anything else.

Sorren handed me a stack of enlarged photos. They were all of people, mostly very old people. Some of them seemed like they'd been taken a long time ago, by the looks of the clothing and backgrounds, while some of them could have been taken the day before. There were at least a hundred of them, each with a note tapped or stapled to it. Name, age, date, location, and some sort of reference number.

"What's the number?" I asked.

"That," Pam said, pointing to a file box in the middle of the table. It looked like it was about pop, it was so full of papers. "Those are pictures of all the people Eric has talked to about - Freyja." The name passed her lips like it was a hex. "And that is a collection of the stories they told him."

"He told me about that," I nodded.

"About this?" she cried, looking outraged.

"Not about _that," _I said, indicating toward the box with my sandwich. "But he told me that he's talked to a lot of people about her. He said that lots of them are just corny ghost stories, but some of them - aren't."

"The vampire references?" Bill asked.

I nodded and Bill said, "That's what we've found looking through the files. The dates vary throughout the century, but the stories are all the same, and the locations all center around a small area not very far from here."

"That's good," I said between bites. "Then we have a place to start."

"We don't know for sure that's where he is," Sorren said, picking up a few of the photos. "We just know that it's likely Eric was going to someplace in this pile."

"Do you know where Eric's village is?" I asked Sorren. "He said there's a small town in the place where his family's land was, and some kind of Viking museum."

Sorren shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and I realized Pam was staring at him, her arms crossed. "_Ja_," he admitted after a second. Pam snorted and looked away, and he quickly added. "He never took me there himself, Pamela. But I know where you speak of. It's a small fishing village called Nordan. It's about twenty miles from here."

Bill sighed and shook his head, sorting through some pictures on his end of the table. Pam was playing with her cuticles and Sorren was stroking his whiskers, looking ashamed. I was willing to bet that Sorren had at least five hundred years on her, and yet she was able to reduce him to brooding teenager. We were back to uncomfortable silence again it seemed.

"Am I missing something here?" I asked, looking between the three of them. None of them spoke, but I could see both men physically leaning away from Pam, like they were reversed magnets. "Pam?"

"What?" She crossed her arms and looked at me like I was about to play good cop/bad cop.

"You're upset that Eric didn't tell you any of this." I suggested.

"Yes," she admitted begrudgingly after a pause. "So?"

"So, it hurts your feelings."

"Don't push your luck." I just looked at her, questioning her with my eyes. She sighed heavily. "Yes."

"Pam, it's alright to be upset," I said with a kind smile. "I'm feeling that way too right now."

She narrowed her eyes a bit and I watched her fangs slide out. "Let's try not to compare Eric love stories, shall we?"

I let out disgusted gasp. "Hey! Put those things away, missy."

Bill stood up, ready to volunteer as a human shield.

"Oh sit down, lap dog!" she spat at him, but she didn't take her eyes off me. "Let's get something straight. What I have with Eric is between him and I. Nothing you _feel _for him will ever come close to that. And even if it did, I sure as hell am not going to discuss it with you. Get it, cookie?"

"Oh, I get it," I scoffed at her. "I get that you're so jealous of me that you can't see straight." I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. Not because I didn't mean them, because I did. She was being a bitch and I was getting pretty sick of always being the bigger person. But because she was about to launch herself at me. Bill grabbed her arms from behind before she climbed over the table.

"That's enough," Sorren held his huge arms out between all of us, his voice booming. "Pamela, retract your fangs."

Bill slowly let go of her, while Pam drew in her fangs and glared at me like an angry rattlesnake. I frowned, shoving my sandwich into to keep nasty words from flying out of my mouth.

"How are we to defeat our enemies if we quarrel among ourselves?" he demanded, chastising us like children. Too him, we were children. "All of you calm down."

Bill sat back in his seat, but Pam remained standing. She was breathing heavy, her fists clenched. Squeezing her eyes shut, tiny blood tears fell onto her face.

"Pam." Sorren's voice was softer, but still firm. "Sit down."

"I hardly know who he is right now." she whispered, her head hung low. She fell into her seat, overcome with emotion.

Sorren let out a long sigh. He reached out and took her dainty hand is his huge, brawny one. Vamps generally don't like to be touched, so my suspicions about their relationship were instantly confirmed when I saw this intimate action. "Do not judge Eric poorly for this, _min harlinga junfru. _He is, by nature, a private man. He has lived longer than all three of you combined. He would need another lifetime to share all that he has seen and done. You're merely footnotes to the history he's witnessed. Especially you," he indicated with his chin in my direction. "Just the fact that you are sitting here, in this room with us, proves that he values you beyond what you could possibly conceive. Isn't that enough?"

I just stared at him, because I had no idea what to say to him. Anything that could possibly come out of my mouth at that moment would sound simple in comparison. Luckily, Pam rescued me from my own stupidity. She made a show of getting up from her chair and loudly pushing it away from her.

"I'm going for a blood," she announced tersely.

I suddenly knew that I needed to talk to Sorren, this jokester who had the unique talent of hushing a room with a few sentences. It was obvious that there were things he was holding back. To spare Pam, or because he'd been bound not to talk? I needed to be alone with him to find out.

I looked to Bill, who was of course staring right back at me. I looked toward the door with my eyes, then made the smallest nods toward Sorren. He got the message loud and clear, because he sighed and got up as well.

"I think I'll join you," he called, taking a few bounds to catch up with Pam.

"Great," she deadpanned. "Maybe we can go get bunk beds too."

Bill looked back at me, grim-faced. Okay, now I owed him.

"Pay her no mind, _liten flicka." _Sorren said once it was just the two of us.

"I don't mind her one bit," I said quickly, although we both knew that was a lie.

"She's upset, she feels this like the loss of a parent."

"I know what grief is like, trust me, Sorren. I've seen my share of deaths."

He shook his head, putting his hand lightly on mine. "It is not the same."

"I love Eric," I said, with a fierceness my voice rarely possessed.

He got closer to me, leaning over the table and looking me straight in the eyes. "Would you kill for him?"

I didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"You say that with strong conviction, human," he said, and he squeezed my hand. I didn't have time to wonder why he was a touchy-feely vamp because he kept squeezing and squeezing until I l felt my fingers crumpling in his grasp. I didn't flinch. "Imagine how she feels, as a vampire. Take all of your anger and anguish and pain, and bottle it up in a body that doesn't allow for change, that magnifies everything you feel a hundred times. Then, you might understand what she is going through."

He let go of my hand and it was throbbing, squeezed until it turned purple. He looked down at my hand, watched me wiggle off the pain and get the blood flowing again, then he looked back up to me, eyebrow arched.

"A lot of people like you underestimate me," I said. "I'm surprised Eric didn't tell you that."

Sorren leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest with a slow smile. "He did."

"What else did he tell you?"

"That you're quick on your feet but you make bad choices," he replied. "I believe he said that if you're looking for trouble, just find Sookie and wait."

I gave in with a shrug and a faint giggle. "I can actually picture him saying that. I guess he's right. Trouble's been on my doorstep my whole life. It's just easier to blame it on your boyfriend when he's a vampire."

We looked at each other for a moment. He was still wearing his black combat gear, but he somehow made it look good. It looked sort of normal on a man his size, like you'd expect him to have a job he'd be wearing that kind of clothing for. He was older than Eric when he was changed, maybe in his late thirties. I could tell that he must shave his beard, because it had gotten remarkably longer since we'd met. At the airport, he had a blonde shadow on his face, and as we sat there, it almost reached down to his chest. I knew this happened whenever vampires cut their hair or tried to change their appearance. That's why they always looked the same, the same as the day they died. I often wondered what Eric would look like with short hair, cropped and posed like he was on the cover of _GQ._

"Do you shave it every day?" I asked him.

"No, only when I need to blend in. A seven foot Viking with a pleated beard tends to stand out." He picked up the ends of his long facial hair and twirled them around.

We both laughed, and I asked, "Why doesn't Eric have a beard?"

Sorren slowly stopped laughing and the smile on his face turned to a sad look of despair. "He did. The bastards took it from him before they turned him."

"Why would they do that?" I questioned, my brows furrowed.

"To take away his manhood, to claim him."

I nodded. "He said that Ocella wanted to conquer him."

Our voices had quickly become low, serious. His eyes lost their focus and I knew he was seeing things in his mind that I could never imagine. "Romans liked young, fresh boys. Eric was a man with land and a family, but these things came to him at a such young age. He was merely a boy in men's clothing. Oh, but he was fierce, and a strong leader like his father on the battlefield. That's why they took him."

"You were there?"

He hesitated, clearing his throat. "This is a story for Eric to tell you, not I."

"But Eric's not here, and you're my only link to his life here right now," I said. I reached out and touched his hand, softly in contrast to the way he'd grabbed me. "Please, tell me. Why are you here with us?"

He heaved in a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Settling back in his seat, he began a story that he'd probably hadn't told anyone in a very long time, if at all. "I didn't know Eric at the time, but I knew of him, of his family. When my chieftain sent us to find those Romans, he told us that Eric would command the warriors from all the tribes in the area. We set out, with Eric as our leader and myself as a soldier. My tale is separate from his, and we didn't met until many years later, during his first trip back to the homeland after Ocella released him."

"What happened to you?"

"I was hit from behind, a spear stabbed into my back. When I turned around, there stood a Roman centurion with a plumed helm and a set of bloody fangs. He drained me, here," he said, pointing to the bottom of his neck. "Thought I as was dead I suppose. But Vikings tear their way out of the womb and never just lay down and die. I took the _seax _from my belt and I slashed his throat with my last lick of strength. His blood poured into my mouth, into my wounds. I took his head with the next slice, but it didn't matter. We both died, only I woke up. I felt the sunrise coming. I had no idea what had happened to me, I just knew I had to get out of the sun. So I buried myself and stayed down there for a few days. When I came back out, I was surrounded by bloodless corpses."

"Oh my goodness," I gasped, squeezing his hand. "That's just awful. I'm so sorry for you."

"Why?" he asked, looking amused.

"Because no one was there to help you, to teach you."

"You mean I had no maker?" he asked, smiling and patting his stomach. "It took me some time to get the hang of things, but as you can see, I managed just fine. And not having a maker has its advantages. I'm sure you can understand that."

That was an understatement. Images of Lorena and Ocella popped into my head and I nodded with a cringe. Where would I be at that very second if neither one of those people had entered my life when they did?

"So, do I pass your test?" he asked, that curious smile on his face once again.

"Yes," I replied with a slight blush. "And I promise not to antagonize Pam, but you have to promise to keep her off of me."

"I will do my best," he chortled.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on between you two?"

He laughed and it sounded like a boom on a kettle drum. "I don't have a death wish, woman!"

Can't blame me for trying. We both laughed and he hit me on the back, like we were drinking out of goblets and checking out wenches. Were they wenches back then?

"Now," I said after we settled down, rubbing hands together in anticipation. "Where do we go from here?"

"Well, assuming you don't get another call from Eric -"

"Let's assume I don't," I interjected quickly, remembering what Eric had said in my dream.

"Then we pick up the trail where Eric left off," he said. He shuffled through some papers and photos until he found one of particular interest. "This is one of his most recent discoveries. It comes from an old fisherman from a few towns over. He told a story from his childhood, one his grandfather told him. He was climbing in the mountains, not far from here, when a pale, thin man came out of the forest and spoke only in Latin. The man thought he was a beggar, or a leper, so he offered him a silver coin. The man hissed at him and barred teeth like a beast, and then fled back into the forest."

He handed me a photograph. The man in the picture was at least eighty, maybe older. His blue eyes looked haunted. "Latin, huh?" I asked.

He nodded. "_Ja_."

"Isn't that what they spoke in ancient Rome?" History Channel paying off in aces.

"_Ja_."

"Well, what are we just sitting here for?" I cried. "Eric could be there right now."

"Or he could be a hundred miles away from there," Sorren insisted. "We will go, but not tonight, and not with you."

"Like hell."

"You get yourself killed, and then what am I supposed to say to Eric when we find him?" he asked. "He'd stake me straight up the ass."

"I'll be fine, I always am."

"_Unge, _you are green as a leaf in spring."

"There you go underestimating me again," I said, my tone more like Pam's than my own. "I'm going, whether you want me to or not."

He blew out a loud sigh. "Eric told me you'd do this."

"Well, Eric was right. I can take care of myself."

"And attract every vampire in a hundred mile radius of you when you stand downwind."

"Use me as bait," I suggested with a shrug.

He threw his hands in the air. "Oh, what a brilliant plan."

I just sat there, letting my words sink in. He hesitated and I could almost see a little Viking hamster spinning in the wheel inside his head. "Use me as bait," I repeated.

"Out of the question."

"Sorren, you know that would work," I persisted. "If they're up there, they haven't smelled fae blood in centuries."

He frowned at me for a few seconds, then grumbled, "We'll _discuss_ it with the others."

I smiled at him and he made an angry grunting noise as he got up from the table. "I'm going downstairs."

Just as well. I need to get some more sleep in. I had some shopping to do the next day. There were no hiking boots in my Sookie-to-go bag.

_**Can you name that tune this time around? Review away!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Thanks for the wait, guys. It's been over two weeks, soooo sorry. I had a ton of camp stuff to do, plus my husband happens to share a birthday with the good ol' US of A. Did I mention that his family is from South America and he's an only child? Ah, let the festivities begin. Yes, he's 38, and yes, there was a piñata involved. I also took him to Mohegan Sun for a Keith Urban concert. (Walking sex appeal in tight Levi's, btw.) **_

_**Anyhoo, when we last left off... Sookie was on the verge of making some bad decisions and some vampires are gonna have to save her ass. Now that we're all caught up...haha, but really, that's pretty accurate.**_

_**If I haven't said so already, please excuse my Swedish if the grammar is off. I'm relying on a computer generated translator. I haven't included any translations, and so far no one has complained, but let me know if you have any questions. Min trogna avläsare. Haha, I just figured out how to do those little dot thingies!**_

_**As always, props to Ms. Harris.**_

**Chapter Eight**

I woke up the next morning, refreshed and determined. There was even a little pep in my step again. For the first time in days, I was feeling something other than misery. Dare I say hope? Well, at least I felt like we had a purpose, a real plan. Even if I had to wait for my UV-challenged friends to wake up, I knew that we were one step closer to finding Eric.

I took my time in the shower. The bathroom was over the top and I couldn't help myself. Italian marble everywhere, a shower big enough to wash my car in, and get this - a remote controlled fireplace. I could see right through to the other side, where I discovered a powder room I'd missed on my tour the night before. There was a another flat screen in there, one of those old fashioned chaise lounges, and a vanity table with all of my favorite perfumes and toiletries. Again, the perks of being Mrs. Eric Northman.

As I dried my hair, I stared longingly at the luxurious tub. It was more like a swimming pool with jacuzzi jets, surrounded by candles and various bottle of soaps and oils. Either Eric really liked his baths, or he had big plans for my first visit. I pictured us laying in there, our arms and legs all twisted together and slick. Me sitting on top of him, grabbing his long hair... I sighed, and gave my head a quick shake. _It will be there when he gets back, _I thought to myself.

I ordered some breakfast, and was surprised to see a copy of the Shreveport Times on the tray when it arrived. It was a few days behind, but still, a nice bonus neatly folded next to my eggs. I wondered how much it must cost to have a daily newspaper delivered to another continent. Eric was probably the only person outside of Shreveport that cared about what was actually happening in Shreveport. I sat at the enormous dining table with my feet up on a chair, drank some amazing coffee, and read about what was going on five thousand miles away. thanks

Around noon, I decided to make my way outside. True, I had been warned by all three vamps not to leave the suite, let alone the hotel. And true, I spoke exactly two words of Swedish - _ja _and _tack. _That's yes and thanks, manners are manners after all. However, I found a stash of money in one of the drawers of the vanity, so I could only assume it was meant for me. Right? And I really did need a better pair of shoes if we were going to be trekking into unknown wilderness. So, what a vampire doesn't know while he or she is sleeping won't hurt them. (That knowledge did have the potential to hurt me once said vampires were awake, but I was willing to take the chance in exchange for a little retail therapy and sightseeing.)

When I got down to the lobby, I saw Greger behind the desk. Boy, this poor guy never seemed to get a break. I wondered if he had a family waiting around for him while he was waiting around for Eric. Maybe I'd ask him about it the time we were alone.

"Good day, Mrs. Northman," he said with a slight bow. "Did you find everything well last night?"

"Yes, thank you so much, Greger," I said with a warm smile. "This place is just so lovely. Have you been here since last night?"

"No ma'am. I - attended to a few things after I left you, then I headed home."

"Hmmm," I nodded. "See anything interesting along the way?"

Disappointment spread over his features. "No, Mrs. Northman. I apologize."

"Oh, no, that's alright," I said, giving his shoulder an encouraging little squeeze. "We're all goin' out tonight, so maybe something will happen then."

I could see him subtly looking all around us, yet he was careful not to change his posture or look out of place. "Would it be possible for me to come along?"

"Well," I shrugged, "I'm not exactly in charge of making all the decisions, but I'll ask them what they think. I'm sure it'll be fine."

He smiled briefly and tugged at his lapels. "Very well, ma'am."

"Great," I said brightly. "Well, I'm heading out to explore a little. I'll see you later."

I was about to go on my merry ol' way, when Greger quickly stepped out from behind the desk in front of me. "Of course, Mrs. Northman. If you don't mind, Greta will be accompanying you." He pointed to a tall and slender woman, leaning on wall next to the entry way to the pub with a board look on her face.

I could tell the second I looked at her that she was two-natured. "Greta?" My eyebrows shot up.

He looked at me, almost shamefully, and I knew it wasn't his idea. "Again, my apologies."

A lazy smile oozed onto her face as she heaved herself off the wall and walked toward us. She was definitely tall, but now I could see the muscle definition in her neck and on her arms. She was scrappy, that was for sure. She looked like Joan Jett - black dyed hair and biker boots. It was a terrible thing to think so quickly, but I didn't like her already.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll do fine on my own," I said, trying to pull off casual.

"You didn't actually think they were gonna let you out by yourself, did you?" she asked. Another smile, and a chuckle.

Yup, I officially didn't like her.

"Who's paying you?" I asked suspiciously.

"Need to know basis, _Mrs. Northman._ "

I narrowed my eyes and turned back to Greger. He looked like he wanted to shrink down under the desk and hide. Greta was sliding a black leather jacket over her shoulders, looking ready for anything I could possibly dish out to her.

"Fine," I said, plastering on a big, fake smile. "That's great, you can go shoe shopping with me."

The other woman rolled her eyes, and that pleased me enormously. I was going to spend every single _krona _in my pocket and then let her carry the heavy bags.

"We'll be back soon," I said to Greger, and gave him a _we will talk later _glare.

He nodded grimly, blinking behind his glasses. "Ladies."

Greta smirked and saluted a farewell. "Greger."

We were then out on the street and I tried to walk ahead of her, but Greta matched me stride for stride. Her legs were longer than mine and she was having no trouble keeping up with my power walking. After a block or so, I gave up and slowed down.

"Alright, " I sighed, "What are you?"

She looked at me like I'd just cursed her out. "What are _you_?"

I stopped, hand on my hip. "Annoyed."

"Aww, am I annoying you?" she asked, putting on a pair of sunglasses and popping a piece of gum on her mouth, which she didn't offer to me. "I can do this all day."

I stared at her, my feet planted to the side walk. I wasn't going another foot away from the only people I knew in the entire country until I knew what her story was. "So can I."

She shrugged and started walking again. "My father is enforcer for the _svart tand _pack," she called out, assuming that I would just follow her. Which I did.

Pack enforcer, that meant werewolves. I should've guessed it just by looking at her. She had that tough ego thing going on, something that I'd only ever seen in wolves.

"Why are you working for vamps?" I asked, hurrying to stay next to her.

"Who says I am?"

"Well," I said, hefting my purse onto my shoulder and jogging along, "Considering that I'm here with three vampires, looking for another one, I'd say that's a pretty safe assumption."

She ignored me, lighting a cigarette without losing a step. "God, Sorren was right," she mumbled, holding the cig between her lips. "You don't shut up."

I gave her back a sour look as she turned a corner onto another street. I was certain that Sorren wouldn't use those exact words. She was just trying to bait me, but I wasn't biting. I couldn't just blurt out words like vampire or werewolf, but I shuffled along behind her and kept throwing out questions.

"So Sorren hired you?"

"What's the difference?"

"Because I don't like being told what to do by people I barely know," I replied.

"Even if they're doing it to keep your ass alive?"

"That's not really the point," I huffed, feeling like I'd just run a mile. Either my purse was way too heavy or she was purposely trying to wear me out. "Listen, can you slow down for a second? I feel like I'm gonna pass out."

She turned around with a smug smile and took a deep drag of her cigarette. I knew she was a wolf on the inside, but she looked more like the Cheshire cat at that moment. Almond shaped caramel eyes, a tiny nose, and a head full of spiky hair. She actually reminded me a little of Sam's girlfriend, Jannalynne.

Maybe that's why I had felt an instant dislike for this woman I didn't even know. There was certainly no love lost between Jannalynne and I, and I honestly felt that Sam could do way better. No matter how I felt about her though, part of me respected the way she handled herself in the pack. She lived in a male-dominated group where most of the women were expected to just make dinner and bend over when instructed. Jannalynne wasn't like that, I was beginning to get the feeling that Greta wasn't either.

"Where are we going in such a hurry anyway?" I asked between short breaths.

"Shopping," she said simply, gesturing behind her. A block of boutiques and street vendors stretched out ahead of us. "The stores close at one for lunch on Sundays."

I glanced over her shoulder and sort of felt like a jerk. "Oh."

Greta took another long drag and then tossed the cigarette onto the side walk, squishing it under her boot. "Look," she sighed, apparently deciding to level with me. "All I know is that Sorren showed up at my house last night and asked my father to keep an eye on you."

"Does your father work for Sorren?" I asked, confused. Weres and vamps were known for notoriously disliking each other.

"They go back a long time. Sorren is different from other vamps, in case you hadn't caught that yet."

I shrugged. Maybe it was because of the no maker thing? Maybe it made him a more open-minded supernatural being. He certainly was unlike any other vamp I'd met before, and I had become an unfortunate expert on the subject of the undead.

"Yeah, well, Sorren gave my father a big wad of cash, and I'm getting about an eighth of it, for all of the bother this is. So please excuse me if I'm a little pissed that I'm getting paid the allowance of a twelve year-old to babysit you."

"Well, this isn't ideal for me either, _in case you hadn't caught that yet."_

We stood there, staring at each other in the middle of the busy sidewalk, both of us unwilling to concede. We might have stood there all afternoon, if it had not been for the sudden feeling of something soft and fuzzy rubbing against my leg. I looked down and saw a large cat staring up at me with intelligent green eyes. It looked just like Elsa, only it was bigger and it's fur was fuller. It looked like a miniature gray and white lion.

I was about to reach out to give it a little pet, when Greta rushed toward me and grabbed me by the wrist. "Don't touch it!" she exclaimed.

"Why not?" I cried, more shocked by her reaction than her sudden touch. Then the cat hissed at her and flattened its ears back, and I suddenly remembered how Alcide had freaked out when Elsa got too close to him.

"I don't know, it's not right," she sputtered, and I swear there was fear in her eyes.

"It's just a cat," I said, though I obviously suspected it wasn't that simple.

"No it's not."

"Aren't _cats _supposed to be afraid of _dogs_?" I asked with a wicked little grin. Gran would've smacked me with a wooden spoon.

She blinked, then quickly recovered herself. She let go of my arm and took a step back. "That thing is not normal."

"Neither are you," I pointed out.

When she should have taken insult, she just shook her head. "It's not like me. It smells like you."

Just like Elsa.

I looked back down and saw that it was still staring at me. I locked eyes with it and knew it was a she. She was relaxed now, ignoring Greta, maybe because she didn't feel like Greta was a real threat. She started to rub her head on my calf, marking me as her own. This didn't strike me as abnormal, although I could see from the look on Greta's face that she was someplace between horrified and bewildered.

"Where did it come from?" she asked.

"It's a girl," I mumbled, then added, "And that's exactly what I was wondering."

I looked all around us, scanning in every direction. I turned toward a square with a bubbling fountain at our left and saw four more cats, all with the same markings and color. They were trailing behind an old man, following him like puppies. He was scruffy looking - not homeless or anything, just unshaven and rumpled. We both watched as he ambled around, throwing scraps or treats of some kind at his feet to keep the little critters with him. He turned around after a minute, then looked up with a sharp scowl. Someone was missing.

He instantly set eyes upon us and I felt my heart skip a beat. He glared hard at me for a good thirty seconds, which is a really long time to be stared at by some creepy old guy.

"He's not right either," Greta whispered.

I shook my head, completely agreeing with her this time. "Uhnt-uh."

The man let out a loud whistle and yelled, "_Kommet_!" The cat scurried away in an instant, bounding across the open square and getting back in formation with the others. He glowered at us again, then kept on walking with his little friends trailing behind him.

We observed the man until he was out of sight, then I looked to Greta. She was quiet for a moment, and I was comfortable with the assumption that she wasn't taken quiet very often. She lit another cigarette, and with far away eyes, offered me a piece of that gum she had. I took it without a word and began chewing it as I watched her try to figure out what she'd just witnessed.

"You're not all together normal either, are you?" she finally asked.

"Nope."

"Why did the cat smell like you?"

I smiled and let out a little sigh. "Greta, I could answer that, if you really want to know. But before you ask the next question, do yourself a favor and don't. It'll make your life a heck of a lot easier."

She considered it for a moment, then she smartly nodded. "Fine with me."

From there, we went shopping after all, and Greta and I got along better. I knew we were never going to be buddies, but we managed. We went from bickering to just not saying much. She helped me look for a decent pair of shoes, and I stayed out of her brain. I was sure we were both thinking about the man and his cats, but for completely different reasons. Neither one of us brought it up though, and we just kept walking. After a few stops, we found a store with a good selection of outdoor supplies. I was happy with the shoes I picked out, though I suspected I paid way too much for them.

By that time, the shops were all closing for lunch like Greta said they would. A dozen or so food carts had set up in the square and people were gathering around them. The smells of sizzling meat and warm bread filled my nose and it reminded me of the fair Bon Tempes had every spring in the town center. I supposed that some things were the same, no matter where you went in the world.

"You want some coffee?" Greta asked, fishing in her pockets for money.

"Sure. Here," I said, handing her a bill. Her eyes arched when she saw the amount, and I shrugged. "I used to babysit too."

She smiled, and it was the first genuine smile I'd seen on her strangely pretty face. "Don't move, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll be right back, don't move."

I held my hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay."

She hoped over to a little coffee wagon got on line behind a few other people. Coffee would be good, I thought to myself, wishing I had wore a thicker shirt under my cable knit sweater. I wasn't used to being so close to the water. Eric had told me more than once, that no matter where you went in Sweden, the sea always had a way of making itself known.

The breeze caught my hair and I turned away from it to keep my hair from my eyes. That's when I saw that the old man was standing directly behind me. It startled me, obviously, and I gasped. He was close to me and I could see that he was indeed very old. The skin around his eyes and mouth was craggy like a glacier, and his dull gray hair was wiry under a worn knit cap. His clothes sagged off his body, like he'd been wearing them for several days.

He leaned closer to me and sniffed me. This was something I was used to, hanging around supes as much as I did, so maybe I didn't freak out like I should have. Fae blood was like catnip to most of them. I simply stood there and waited for his reation.

"You have blood of the north man in you," he said.

Okay, I wasn't expecting that.

I took a cautious step away from him. "How do you know that?"

"The smell, it stays on you." His voice was thick with the accent I'd become so used to already. I could tell his English was limited, but there were a thousand questions I suddenly needed to ask.

The cats crowded around my feet all at once, and I had five sets of inquizative green eyes looking up at me. "Are they all...for the north man?"

"_Ja_. He takes one, leaves the others for next time."

"Next time?"

"He says next time."

"Have you seen him?" I asked. "The north man, Eric Northman?"

"Not for many weeks," he replied. He cast a glance down at the cats, who were all rubbing my shoes and curling their tails around my legs, and said, "They know you."

"They're special," I hedged.

"_Ja_."

"Why are they special?"

He smiled, and I was surprised to see a mouthful of lovely white teeth. "Someday, they fly." Then he laughed like he'd made a joke, and a few of the cats mewed in unison. "Someday, maybe you fly too."

He started laughing again, and for a second I wondered if all of his spark plugs were twisted in right. But I would've been lying to myself if I said I didn't know what he meant. They'd fly, like me. Like Tinker Bell, is more like it.

"What did Eric tell you about me?" I asked, my voice heavy with suspicion.

"He do not tell me. Cats tell me."

"The cats?"

He smiled. "_Ja_."

"What the fuck!" My head snapped over I and saw Greta standing just in front of the coffee stand, two cups held in her hands and disbelief stamped all over her face. In an instant she dropped the cups and was standing between me and the old man.

"_Fa ta dig, pucko_!" she spat at him, pulling me away and back toward the direction we'd come from.

"Greta!" I exclaimed when I saw the hatred pulled over her face. I had no idea what she said, but I could take a real good guess. "We were just talking."

"Of flying," he added.

"_Stäng sig upp_," she seethed. "_Dra åt helvete_!"

He smiled at her, tossing a few nibblets at her feet. "_Stort uttrycker, valpen_," he said, his voice almost crooning the words. The cats crawled around her and she scurried back, yanking me with her. Her eyes were wide with fright.

"_Galen gamal man_!" she screamed over her shoulder. She hauled me onto the side walk and I could hear him laughing behind us.

Once we were a good distance away and had turned the corner back toward the hotel, I tried to twist my way out of her grip. Finally, I took a swing at her with my shopping bag and it knocked her off me. "What did you say to him?" I yelled.

She ignored my question, pulling a her hair like she was going crazy. "I wasn't even gone for three minutes!" she cried. "You couldn't stay out of trouble?"

"I was just talking to him," I insisted. "Those cats -"

"Fuck the cats. You explain it to Sorren when he wakes up, we're going back to the _Vitdraken_."

She tired grabbing me again but I quickly dodged her. "You lay one more finger on me and I swear I'll scream werewolf!" I snapped.

She spun around and stared at me with desperate eyes. "He knows what I am!" she cried, her earlier subtly gone out the window.

"Okay..."

"Okay nothing. He's human."

"I'm human."

She scoffed . "Oh, like hell you are. This is just great. My father is going to love this."

She was actually panicking in the middle of the street. I got a little closer to her and lowered my voice. "It's all right. We'll figure it out, but you need to shut up right now."

"Thanks for the advice," she sneered, turning away and stomping down the sidewalk.

"Listen," I called after her, "I can handle going back to the hotel just fine on my own."

"Oh, sure, until you see a butterfly across the street and get hit by a bus," she growled. "You're going back to Greger and I'm getting the hell out of here. I am not getting paid enough for this shit."

And again I found myself following behind her. I could've kept arguing, there was plenty I wanted to say to her at that moment. But really, what was the point? I didn't realize until that moment how young she really was. Nineteen, maybe twenty. She would've just kept yelling back at me, finding more colorful and descriptive forms of insults to throw my way. Besides, I had other things to think about as we walked in silence. I couldn't think of a single reason why Eric would tell that creepy little guy about me and my Tinker Bell tendencies. And why did all of those cats know who I was? Did they all know my blood, just like Elsa? If all of those cats sense my thoughts , why would Eric just leave them with some random person? And most curious of all, why was Greta so freaked out by them? I was going back with more questions than I left with. All of this before lunchtime.

At least I found my boots.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: We're getting sooo close to Eric! I promise, he's right around the corner. Who has him? Did he find the mysterious Freyja? And what is with those dang cats? Hummmmmm... Thanks to everyone that followed me after my short absence. I've started working on my novel as well, so I'm going back and forth between two worlds of hot vamps and flawed, yet likeable female heroines. I'll keep you updated.**_

_**As always, props to Ms. Harris. **_

**Chapter Nine**

As it turned out, my boots were made for walking, and it was a good thing.

We'd been walking through a dense wooded area, steadily making our way uphill for over an hour. We were silent, partly because we had to be, and partly because I was simply keeping my mouth shut. Vamps do not feel the need to jabber like I do, so I think it was a welcome change for them not to hear me asking a hundred questions. We were in stealth mode, which was fine by me, though certainly a little challenging. Everywhere I stepped, a branch creaked or a twig snapped, while they seemed to glide over the ground without making a sound.

I had some time to think of what had happened that day as we went along.

They all came up to the suite together as soon as they fed and dressed. Back in their creature camos, I realized that we were heading out to the hills to find the mysterious Roman, or Vampicus, as I had started calling him. I decided to vamp up as well and dress in all black, but I certainly didn't look as battle ready as they were. We looked like a twisted troop of cat burglars.

I ignored Sorren, pure and simple. I was mad at him for sicking Greta on me, and I was not in the mood for yet another _this is why your life is always in danger _lecture. I assumed that Greta's father had told Sorren what happened and had mentally prepared myself for a barrage of fangy Swedish curses. But he didn't say anything to me, which I found to be even worse. So, I kept my gaze away from him and didn't speak unless spoken to. He secured a huge sword to his back, his _seax, _then just sat in a corner and brooded. I guessed he was ready.

Pam and Bill prepped me on where we were going and how to defend myself if I was separated from the group. Bill strapped a shoulder holster onto me, which was a surreal moment in my life, to be sure. I also had a large stake velcroed into my inside pocket. They assured me that this was only to be used as a last resort. There was no way any of them were gonna let Vampicus get close enough to me that I would have to use it. And yet there it was. As I stood with my arms out, Bill tucked a large handgun loaded with sliver onto my side and pulled my coat over it.

"This is a Glock .45, Sookie. It's lightweight and easy to handle. All you have to do it take off the safety, point and shoot," he explained, but I wasn't listening to him. I was vaguely horrified that a deadly weapon was being attached to my body, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to care. I looked over his head to see Sorren staring me. He crossed his arms and sighed, and it felt like Eric was looking back at me. He was nervous. And he was keeping something from me, to be sure.

Later, after another silent car ride, Sorren lead the way as we parked the SUV behind some trees and headed into the darkness. After a while, he fell back and let Pam pilot the group. Bill stayed annoyingly close to me, but even he moved a few paces ahead when I noticed Sorren was walking beside me. He didn't say anything for a while, and we just walked and watched Pam and Bill creeping ahead. As even more space ebbed between us, I knew he wanted to speak to me alone.

_Here we go_. I figured I'd go first, like a band-aid. Rip it off quick and get it over with.

"No Greger?" I asked, my voice very low and indifferent.

"Of course not," he replied. "It was foolish of you both to even consider him coming. It's bad enough you're here."

I swallowed back my pride and tried to use an even tone. "He works for Eric, you know."

"I am well aware of their arrangement," he said quickly. "It does not mean that he should go on a fool's errand and lose his life when he could be of good use to us in the future."

"If you have any other ideas, then by all means, let 'em rip."

The muscle in his jaw tightened and I could see tension all through his body.

"Then a-hiking we will go," I said dryly, pushing a large branch away from my face. It snapped back and hit me in the eye. I cursed as held my face and felt stupid. It burned like hell and I could feel tears dripping onto my cheek.

Sorren cupped my chin and looked down at me, inspecting me carefully. "Ah, you're fine," he sighed. We looked at each other like that for a moment, and he sighed again, shaking his head.

"You're angry with me," I supplied.

"Not angry, _liten flicka_," he said, lowering his hand. "I worry for your safety. Eric is my brother, I owe him much. You are my responsibility as long as you're here."

I rolled my eyes. "Bill would argue with you about that one."

He chuckled deep in his chest. "Bill. He is almost as helpless as you are. He is blinded by his emotion, as is Pamela right now."

We started walking again and I asked, "So I suppose you know what happened today?"

"Yes."

"And I don't suppose you plan on explaining it to me?"

"No."

"That's what I figured," I sighed.

"It's not important right now," he said, then added in a mumble, "You could've just stayed in the hotel, as you were told."

"I don't take kindly to being told what to do."

"Hence Greta's presence."

Arguing with him was like arguing with a Vulcan. "Yeah, she's a real peach."

"How is it that you and Eric have not killed each other yet?" he asked, and it sounded like a genuine question.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we just balance each other out. He tells me what to do, I say no. I almost die, he saves me. It's pretty give and take."

Sorren let out a hearty laugh and it immediately made me feel more at ease. I could listen to him laugh all day. I smiled back, giggling a little as well. I guess our relationship was fairly insane, to a vampire or a human.

"He loves you very much."

"Yeah, I know. That kind of snuck up on him, I think. I'm the last thing he expected."

"Hmm, you speak the truth. You are smarter than they give you credit for," he said, nodding toward Bill and Pam. "Are you sure you can't read vampire minds?"

"Boy, would that have made my life easier over the past few years."

"Or infinitely more complicated."

I looked up at him, impressed. "You're pretty smart yourself."

"You make a lot of mistakes over a thousand years," he said humbly. "You live and learn."

"And Pam?" I asked, my eyebrow arched.

He smiled wickedly. "Some things I'll never learn."

Okay, so he had a weakness for Pam, a great sense of humor, and a streak of humanity that was a mile wide. And he was friends with a werewolf. He was probably the most unique person, living or dead, that I had ever met, aside from the Pam part. Half of the men in Shreveport had a thing for her, and a select few even had the pleasure of getting stepped on by her five inch stilettos before being sucked on. It was common knowledge that she preferred women, and had made countless comments about my assets over the years. There must have been something very special about Sorren for her to actually have feelings for him. I wondered, for a brief second, about the crazy vampire sex they must have, but I quickly realized that I didn't want to know.

Sorren stopped moving suddenly, and I became very aware of the stillness surrounding us. No animal noises, no insects, no wind - nothing. Bill turned around and silently motioned to a cave on the hill face about a hundred yards ahead. I could barely make it out through the trees. Pam turned to us with a nefarious smile, her fangs gleaming in the moonlight. She was ready to rumble.

"We shouldn't have been talking," I whispered. "He might've heard us."

"He knew we were coming," Sorren replied, not even bothering to lower his voice. "He heard us the second we stepped foot in his territory."

"He could be anywhere then," I whispered, inching closer to Sorren's protective bulk.

"No, he's there. I can smell him."

Bill and Pam concurred. They were both hunched behind large trees on either side of the ancient path we'd been following, stakes gripped in their hands.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sorren asked me.

_No._ Panic was slowly rising up from my toes throughout my body and I could taste bile in my mouth. I was about to put myself out to bait a vampire that was old as Eric, maybe even Ocella. I'd had good ideas in the past, and I realized that this wasn't one of them. But desperate measures, right? If this guy had really been living in a cave for a thousand years, there was no way he'd just roll out the welcome mat for three unknown vamps. Once he got a whiff of me though, all bets were off.

"Don't let him eat me," I muttered.

"I won't."

I slowly kept moving forward, and I could feel the sweat balling up on my forehead and in my palms. I stopped next to Bill. Shifting my coat to the side, he popped open the holster and flipped the safety switch off on my gun. I looked him in the eyes and I saw that he was just as uncomfortable as I was. He smiled quickly and gave me an encouraging nod. I nodded back, and turned to Pam. Sorren had taken his place next to her. They both gave me similar fleeting looks, but Pam had a bit too much excitement on her face for my liking. She definitely took after Eric, who would've been in the cave ripping out fangs by then.

I blew out a long, unsteady breath and kept walking.

The plan was for me to just stand outside the cave and wait for him to come out, maybe share a few words of small talk (if he didn't try to tear my throat out first), and then the others would pounce. We were all counting on me being irresistible, which part of me still found laughable. So I walked to a close-enough-for-me distance and tried my best to be irresistible.

And that plan might have worked, if there'd only been one of them.

I saw the familiar blur of vampiric speed fly around both sides of me. I whirled around to see Pam and Sorren struggling to bring down a large dark haired man. Bill was on the ground under the grip of another. For a long second, I just stood there and watched them, twisting and writhing so fast that I couldn't make out where one vampire started and the other ended. But I quickly realized that while Sorren and Pam were managing to hold their guy down, Bill was about to be very dead. The other vamp, a lean and grizzly looking character, had hauled Bill off the ground and had his arms pulled behind his back. One pull or twist and his arms would be gone. Another, and it would be his head.

With a shaking hand, I pulled the Glock out of its holster and aimed. It wasn't the first time I'd used a gun before - I was well acquainted with my good ol' Benelli shotgun - but this was somehow different. It was light and easy, like I was shooting a rubber band.

Bill saw my movement and ducked just enough not be hit himself. I fired and fell backwards. I didn't see the damage I'd inflicted until I scrambled up and saw Bill covered with brains and blood. His vamp was writhing on the ground behind him with half his head blown away. Without a moment's hesitation, Bill leaned down and staked him where he lay. The other vamp, who was in a very effective headlock between Sorren's arms, let out a guttural scream of anguish as his pal fizzled away and turned into a pile of goo.

I raised my arm up at the other vamp and took a step forward, but that's as far as I got.

In the same instant that Bill called out my name and rushed toward me, I felt a grip like a steel vice on the back of my neck.

"Drop it," a voice hissed in my ear, and I let the gun fall to the ground. Bill tried to sidle closer to me, but I got squeezed even harder and would've fallen to my knees had I not been held up. I yelped out in pain and the voice said, "Not another step, or I'll crush her like a grape."

Bill reluctantly stepped back, shooting daggers from his eyes to Sorren and Pam.

"Let him go."

"Don't do it, Sorren," I cried.

"Shut up, Sookie," Pam snapped, but she looked at me with unmistakable concern. "We'll rip his fucking head off if you so much as scratch her," she then said to my captor. My thumping heart swelled.

He sniggered, and I could feel him inhaling the scent off my neck. "It just might be worth it," he said in breathy voice. "She's a special one, isn't she?" I heard his fangs click down and the breath caught in my throat. I knew it was Vampicus, I just knew it. The older ones have this weird vibe, I mean like an actual vibe. I could feel the power pouring off him, just from the sound of his voice.

"She belongs to Eric Adilsson," Sorren said, his voice unnecessarily loud.

The grip on my neck loosened just a bit and he took pause. "You speak of the Viking?"

"I speak _as _a Viking," Sorren said assuredly. "You hurt her, and you might as well stake yourself."

"You are fae?"

I assumed he was talking to me, so I slowly turned to look at him. I saw a wild-eyed man, vamp or not. He had very short hair and a face that looked like he belonged on a statue. He actually had a Roman nose. But his skin was covered with grime and he was wearing a thread-bare flannel shirt.

"I'm his wife," I said, my voice cracking and betraying my brave face.

The vamp's eyebrows furrowed. "Wife? The Viking has married a faery?"

"Yes." _Please don't eat me now._

He laughed deep in his throat and his arm slid from my neck to my upper arm. He turned me around like I was modeling a dress and said, "No wonder they're looking for him."

"Who is they?" Sorren asked.

"I have no reason to answer your questions," Vampicus replied .

Pam stuck the tip of her stake into the other vamp's side, growling, "I'll give you a reason, fucker."

Vampicus merely glanced at Pam, barely giving her threat merit. He kept his eyes on Sorren. "You come here with a faery, two baby vamps, you end the life of thirteen hundred years old soldier, and _you _are threatening me?"

"I have no quarrel with you."

"It seems you do."

I turned a little toward him again and tried the honest approach. "We're looking for Eric. We thought you could help."

"And why would I help you?"

"Because," I said, a stream of logic suddenly flowing out of my brain, "You obviously know Eric, which means you know his maker. And there must be a reason why you've been living in a cave for the past thousand years."

My words seemed to hit a nerve. Sorren and the man stared at each other for a long, tense moment, then they released me and the other vamp at the same time, like a supe hostage negoiation. I ran to Bill, silly enough, and he put his arm protectively around my shoulders. The other vamp stood behind Vampicus, though he tried his best to look tough peering over the other one's shoulder.

"Ocella is here?" Vampicus asked, not quite so sure of himself.

"Oh no," I piped up. "He got staked in my front yard about a year ago." We didn't need to mention that it was my faery uncle that did the staking.

Satisfied with this answer, he seemed impressed with me, when before I had just been an appetizer. He stood a little taller and took a step away from the other vamp. "I have lived in these hills for over a thousand years, with this spineless swine behind me, and the solider at your feet which you have so carelessly dispatched. In all that time, we have witnessed, perhaps, a dozen people come anywhere near this area. And now, you are here a mere four days after the last visitor. I hardly think that is coincidental."

"Was it Eric?" I asked. Bill pulled on my shoulder, gently urging me back. I knew Sorren should be doing the taking, but I couldn't help it.

"No," he replied, "But it was someone who knew him, a very long time ago."

"Another Viking? A girl?" Sorren questioned.

"No, a Roman. His name is Marcus Sisera Avitus. He was Ocella's second in command."

"You were there," Sorren grumbled. "The battalion that attacked us."

"Yes."

There were disturbing curses and expletives flying out of Sorren's mouth, but I wasn't paying attention. I looked over my shoulder, suddenly distracted. All I saw was Bill's impatient face.

"Why did he come see you after all this time?" Bill asked.

"To renew our allegiance to him. We declined the offer."

"And yet you still live?" Sorren asked.

"Marcus is not my maker, I have no reason to follow him. And he came alone, the arrogant bastard," Vampicus said with a chuckle. "He was no match for the three of us."

"Two of us," Pam corrected with a sneer.

I wanted to smile at her, leave it to Pam to throw a bit of humor into any life-threatening situation. I turned to her, but I got that nagging feeling again. I squirmed in Bill's grasp, turning all the way around this time. There was no one there and I couldn't sense a thing. I turned back around and Pam was staring at me, her eyebrow arched.

"Ocella was not your maker," Sorren said, stating something we knew already. Eric was Ocella's first child.

"Ocella didn't have to stomach for it," Vampicus scoffed. "He made Marcus do all the dirty work, but there were a thousand of us. So it passed down from captain to commander to lieutenant to solider to footman - it was a plague we were all forced to endure. And if you refused, you were served for dinner."

"So how did you end up here?"

He smiled at Sorren, taking a glance back at the vamp behind him. "You Vikings put up a bit more of a fight than we expected."

Sorren nodded, crossing his arms over his puffed up chest. "_Ja_, that we did."

"My maker died during the battle, and there two were the only ones left of the men I turned. So we left."

"You deserted," Sorren said, disgusted.

"Would you want to live like this?" Vampicus cried.

"I have lived like this," Sorren bellowed, "Thanks to one of you cravens that failed to finish the job!" In a flash, Sorren had his _seax _in hand, pointing the broad tip out. He, like Eric, seemed to have a very clear patience threshold. Vampicus has just stepped over it. "What did want with you?"

The little guy backed away, but Vampicus lifted his chin defiantly and replied, "He wants the Viking. He offered fae blood in exchange."

I knew I should've been paying attention at that point, considering the ravenous glint I saw in his eye as he said the word _fae_. But I felt that pull in my stomach. I closed my eyes and had to physically hold myself back from running through the trees to the car. I looked to Pam, she needed to know. She was already watching me, and she understood immediately. Eric was summoning me again, and he was close.

"Why does he want Eric?"

"I do not know."

Sorren stepped ahead of us and put the tip of his sword dangerously close to Vampicus' neck. One thrust either way was all it would take. "I'll ask you again, what does he want with Eric Adilsson?"

"I do not know," he repeated quickly. "All he did was ask us to go with him. We said no, and he left."

"I find that very hard to believe." Sorren said, casually pulling the blade down the vamp's dirty shirt. The fabric easily gave way to show an equally soiled tee shirt. Vampicus nervously cleared his throat and the _seax _was against his Adam's apple in an instant. He was clearly scared, and we all knew it. He was deserter after all, and no matter how long he'd been a vampire, some character traits never seem to waiver.

"I could assume."

Sorren smiled, like they were old pals. "Sure, let's assume."

"Ocella and Marcus planned on invading all of Europe. They were going to make a vampire army. But when Ocella turned Eric, he became obsessed with him. He lost all interest in his army and just left us. Marcus became leader by default, not because he wanted to be. He quickly lost control of the men and most of us left. By the time he made it back to Rome, some twenty years later I've heard, he had a mere hundred men and nothing to show for it but a curse. His family name was shamed."

"He wants revenge."

"Yes."

"Why now?" Sorren asked.

"Because he is weakened by his love for a mortal."

Everyone looked to me suddenly, and it was all I could do to stand up straight. Sweat was pouring down my back and I was trembling. By now, of course Bill had noticed something was wrong. He looked down at me, then his eyes quickly shifted over to Pam. She curtly nodded and Bill let out a low, barely audible sigh.

"What's wrong with her?" Vampicus asked as Sorren's eyes quickly darted to me.

He didn't let him change the subject that easily. "Where is he?"

"I don't know." Sorren jabbed the _seax _just slightly and blood trickled down onto Vampicus' chest. "I swear to the Gods, I don't know!" he yelped.

Sorren eyed both of the grubby vamps for a few seconds, then lowered his sword. "Know this - we leave you in peace because it is our choice, not your will. I suggest you do not make me regret this decision."

They were out of sight, back into the shelter of their cave, before my knees even hit the ground.

"What is it?" Sorren demanded.

"Eric is summoning her," Bill replied, trying to scoop me up into his arms again.

"Get off," Pam and I both screamed at him and he scurried away like I was covered with sunlight and silver. "Make sure those idiots stay up in that hole," she ordered, and like sulking child, he obeyed.

Pam kneeled down next to me. She was careful not to get too close, but I didn't mind her being there. It was the first time in three days that she didn't look as though she wanted to pluck my eyebrows off. "What are you feeling?" she asked.

"He's close," I said between big gulps of air. "He's tryin' to pull me to him, that way." I pointed toward the direction we'd just come in, back toward the city.

"Pamela?" Sorren questioned. Without even looking up at him, she quickly shook her head. She wasn't feeling a thing.

And then she did.

I cried out, and she gasped in horror. My hands flew to the right side of my ribs, holding the spot like I'd just been stabbed. Pam staggered around and Sorren rushed over to hold her up. Blood tears fell onto her face and she cried out in agony that was not her own. I was face down in the dirt by then, inhaling dust and pine needles as I screeched Eric's name. I felt myself being turned over and saw Bill hanging over me. Helplessly, he tried to brush my face clean and wipe away my tears, but I kept screaming out my sorrowful howls.

"Sookie, tell me what to do," he whispered to me. I curled into a ball in his lap, trying to keep the pain from spreading to the rest of my body.

"They're killing him," Pam sobbed, leaning against a boulder. "We have to go!"

"Where?" Bill pleaded. I knew he'd do just about anything to make the pain stop.

My legs and arms were going numb. "Car..." I uttered, then I had a hard time keeping my eyes open.

The next few minutes were a haze of trees and black sky. I knew I was in Bill's arms, I knew he was running faster than a cheetah with its feet on fire. By the time I felt the cool leather of the SUV's backseat under my head, I was already out.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: Thanks sooooo much for all of the pm's and reviews. It's hard for me to answer all of them and keep up with the writing, but please believe me when I say it makes my day every single time I get a message or a favorite alert. I guess I'm a pat on the back type of gal at heart. It's nice to be loved!**_

_**Anyhoo, now we're really getting into the heart of the story. They're hot on Eric's trail, but who will they find at the end of it?**_

_**Another dream sequence anyone? (This tune is so much easier to name than the other two.)**_

**Chapter Ten**

I was on a boat, a big one this time.

It was a yacht, like the kind I'd seen on the Travel Channel but never imagined setting foot on myself. Everything was white and chrome and made of polished dark wood. The shiny decks stretched out for a long way in either direction and I could barely feel the sway of the waves under my feet. I knew the boat was moving, because I could hear the quiet whir of an engine and my hair was whipping around in the breeze.

There was a clear night sky. Stars sprinkled the blackness like silver glitter. I could just make out the black image of an island off the stern. We were moving away from it, where ever we were.

I heard the faint sound of music toward the front of the ship, so I turned left and slowly walked toward it. I took a few steps and noticed my attire. Was I actually wearing high healed dancing shoes? And a long, wispy, white chiffon dress? I was dripping in diamonds - at my wrists, on my fingers, and hanging from my ears - I felt so marvelous, yet vulnerable. Like I was a character out of an Agatha Christie novel.

As I walked along at a leisurely pace, I peeked through the windows of the cabins that I passed, each one more luxurious than the next. There was a parlor with a chandelier and a grand piano. A billiards room, complete with a bar and lots of leather and green upholstery. The control room was in the front. Is that what they called it? The wheelhouse maybe? A pleasant looking older man in a white uniform stood at command, staring out the enormous windows. He turned to me and smiled, tipping his hat.

The music was louder now. I peaked around the corner as I stepped onto the forward deck, and let out an audible gasp of wonderment. There were scores of candles, all captured under hurricane lamps and safe from the wind. Everything before me sparkled and gleamed in the moonlight. Plush white couches rested along the perimeter of the bow. Tables were placed all around, piled high with flowers and decadent looking treats.

And then there was Eric.

Posed like he'd been waiting for the exact moment of my arrival, he popped a bottle of champagne. He was wearing a white tuxedo jacket that was made for him and him alone. His hair was trimmed short and slicked back, his face was smooth and unmarred. He looked like a blonde Cary Grant as he poured us both tall flutes of champagne, and I couldn't take my eyes off him.

"Hello, lover," he said with a striking smile. I could hear the longing in his voice already.

"Eric." I think I blushed. He handed me a glass and I gingerly took a sip. It was the best champagne I'd ever tasted, not sweet and thick like the stuff Sam kept at Merlotte's. It was light and tart and made my nose tickle.

"You look stunning," he drawled, leaning down and landing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

"You look pretty good yourself. You've cleaned up well," I said, a bit warily.

This was the funniest thing I could've possibly said, because Eric flashed another killer smile and laughed out loud. "I was having a bit of a moment back there," he admitted, motioning with his head behind us. The island? "It's much easier not to fight this anymore, so I've decided to have a little fun before I go."

"Go where?" I asked.

Maybe he didn't hear me, but I would've laid odds on him just plain old-fashioned ignoring me. The music seemed to swell and Eric hummed along with it as he sipped from his own glass. I knew the song, I realized. It had been one of Gran's favorites.

"Shall we dance?" he asked. Placing our glasses down on a nearby table, he twirled me into his arms in a flourish of sparkles and billowing fabric. I giggled, despite myself, taken in by the scene laid out before me. He sang the words softly as he stared down fondly at me, and I couldn't help joining in.

"Somewhere beyond the sea, somewhere waiting for me, my lover stands on golden sands and watches the ships that go sailing. Somewhere beyond the sea, she's there watching for me. If I could fly like birds on high then go straight to her arms, I'd go sailing."

We were spinning around and swaying like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, but I was distracted. I slowly stopped singing, and listened to the words more carefully. _We'll meet beyond the shore, we'll kiss just as before. Happy we'll be beyond the sea and never again go sailing. _

If it was all a dream, then how could I be aware of that fact while I was in the middle of it? The other dreams had been abstract, like a painting of real life. But this moment was real life. I was aware, I was thinking. Leaning my head on his broad chest, my mind was trying to wrap around something. But it was too dark, too far away to grab onto yet.

"Sookie?"

"Hum?" I looked up and saw the content disillusionment crumbling from his face.

"You're not happy."

"Oh, Eric," I sighed. "I wanna be. I just wanna be swept away right now, but none of this is real."

"But it is!" he insisted. "This is my boat and my crew and my money. Look," he said, pointing to a decorative round life preserver mounted under the windows of the control room. It said _The Valkyrie - New Orleans, LA_ in big black letters. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"For what?" In general, I was no longer fond of surprises.

"For you, as a - "

My eyes flicked up and I could see the words catching on his tongue. For me as a _what? _

"For us," he corrected with a kiss on my wrist. "To sail around the world in, to see all the places you've never been to."

"I haven't been anywhere."

"Then it'll be a long vacation."

I was closer to his face in those shoes, but he still towered over me. He ran his fingers through my hair and then slowly caressed my cheek. He held my face between his enormous hands and sweetly kissed my forehead. Then he captured my lips with his own and just couldn't help it. I kissed him back with all I was worth. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, feeling his naked skin and trimmed hair. It was different and exciting and drove me crazy. I smelled the cologne behind his ear and it sent a pang right down to the center of my body. He pressed himself against me - he was just as ready as I was.

And I would've done it, right there on the deck of the boat, or on one of the couches, or bent over the railing, or leaning against the window as the captain tipped his hat to me again. But...

But...

It took every ounce of will power I had within me to break away from him. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"What?" He kissed my cheek, my neck.

"Where are we going, Eric?" I asked again. If I was aware of what was happening, maybe he was too.

He looked up from my cleavage, frustrated. "I don't know, it's your dream."

"No," I said, and I took a step back. "It's not mine."

"Don't you like it?"

"Of course I do," I said quickly. "It's all beautiful. But none of this is from my head."

"Okay, so maybe it's my dream." he replied with a childish smile, pushing his mussed hair back into place. "This _is_ my boat, I had it brought over for me a few months back. But the rest," he said with a humble gesture, "Well, I guess I'm indulging a little."

"Why?"

He ignored me again. "I have a gift for you," he said, and I could hear the effort in his voice. "I was going to give it to you later, but ..." He reached down onto one of the tiny tables and picked up a flat, rectangular box. Inside it was a delicate necklace of dangling diamonds and pearls. In the center, hung a teardrop shaped diamond that looked like it could have been a crowned jewel.

I gasped, my hands covering my mouth. (I am a girl, after all.) Even if it was just a dream, my heart still skipped a beat. He spun his finger in the air and I obediently turned around. Lifting my hair, he clasped the treasure around my neck. I reached up and felt the center jewel, felt the weight of it pressed against my skin.

"This belonged to a Swedish queen named Margareta a very long time ago. She gave it to me as a token a few months before her death," he explained.

I looked over my shoulder. "Where you her lover?"

He blinked. "I would never give you something used like that."

Oh.

"I served in her court for a time, while it amused me to be a nobleman." I raised my eyebrows and he chuckled. "Trust me, it didn't last long. But she had a fondness for old Viking tales, and I always seemed to have one to share."

"It's breathtaking," I smiled weakly, that blank thought creeping into the back of my head again.

"It's yours now."

I sighed, still touching the jewel. Finally, I turned away from him. "No, not really."

"Just take it," he grumbled.

"I can't."

"Of course you can! Why must you be so damn stubborn?"

"I can't because this isn't real," I exclaimed. "Eric, why are we here? Why are you thinking these things? Are you putting them into my head, or am I it dreaming too?"

He stomped away from me, anger etched on his face. "You can't just leave it alone, can you?"

"No," I replied simply.

We both stood on opposite side the deck, our backs turned to each other. I crossed my arms and stared up at the starry night. What the hell sky was I looking at anyway? Was it just some made-up picture for my benefit, or maybe an image captured somewhere in the recesses of Eric's mind from a hundred years ago?

After a long, quiet moment, I heard him let out a heavy sigh. "I don't have a lot of time. Thinking about you is all I have left."

"But we can find you," I said adamantly, turning to him. "We're so close, I can feel you."

He shook his head. "No, that's what they want you think."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I cried. "You're physically hurt, Pam can feel it too. You're not thinking straight."

He quickly strode over to me and made a shushing noise. He looked over both shoulders, like he was making sure no one was listening, then he hunched close to me and whispered, "What you're feeling isn't real."

"I know that, dummy."

"Woman, listen to me," he growled between his teeth. "They're making me say things, making me feel things to confuse you."

"Well, I know I'm feeling real pain," I exclaimed. "I'm passed out in the back of Sorren 's SUV right now because I hurt so bad-"

"Sorren is with you?" he hissed excitedly.

"Yeah, and Pam and Bill too. I told you, we're not leaving without you, Eric."

He was suddenly very close, grabbing both my arms and holding me still. "Tell him that he needs to get you the hell out of the country."

"I don't understand-"

"They don't want me anymore, Sookie! They want -"

His words were silenced by a strange sound, like a slicing through the air. He grunted and fell forward against me. I looked down and my eyes popped in sheer horror. A silver stake was firmly planted into Eric's abdomen. He put his hands around it and tried to pull, but his skin began to burn at the touch of it. He stumbled backwards onto a couch, barely propping himself up.

"No, oh Gods," he murmured.

I realized he was staring at my dress, just as I felt a trickling down my stomach, onto my legs and feet. I looked down. The white chiffon was stained crimson, my crystal shoes were swimming in a puddle of blood. I reached up and felt a ragged hole in the fabric. I felt my own blood, slick and warm, covering my fingers.

"Now do you see?" I whimpered. Then the pain hit me and I fell onto the deck in a heap.

I woke up, gasping for air like I'd been trapped under water. I was screaming and then Pam was screaming. The car swerved dangerously around for a few long seconds before it came to a screeching halt. I was laying on my back, with Bill hovering over me. I wrenched up my jacket and sweater, expecting to see blood and ripped flesh, but all I saw was my own trembling stomach. My muscles clenched as the pain rippled through me and I got on my knees, curling into a ball on the backseat. I felt like I was pushing the stake out like a ten pound baby.

"What in God's name-" Bill exclaimed. Sorren was silent, his arms still locked at ten and two on the steering wheel, staring ahead and breathing raggedly.

Then the pain stopped, and I collapsed onto Bill. This was, obviously, a more significant moment for him than for me. He tried to rub my hair, and I swatted his hand away. Pam was gripping the dashboard, her head dropped between her shoulders.

"Mother fuckers," she slowly growled, like she was planning the deaths of first born children. Then the real anger settled in. "Mother fuckers!" she shrieked, her voice shaking the glass in the windows. She turned around in the seat and looked down at me, her hair sticking to the sides of her face in bloody/sweaty clumps. "This is bullshit! They know we're getting close and they're fucking with us."

Bill scoffed, and Pam shot him a look of pure venom. "Pam," he said, trying to use his most reasonable and condescending voice, "Unless those vamps up in the cave get a cell signal, there's no way anyone could know we're -"

"She's right," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "They staked him with silver again."

"Sookie, just rest," he said soothingly. "You've had a long night. We'll start again tomorrow, later tonight even."

I grunted, sitting up with much effort. "I'm sorry, did you become the blood-bonded telepath while I was unconscious?" I snapped at him and he looked at me like I was spitting lava. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to screw this up right now."

His chest puffed like a gorilla's. "Eric is my sheriff -"

"Shut the fuck up, Bill," Pam interrupted. She turned to Sorren and asked, "Where are we?"

"About ten miles out of the city. A fishing village called _Tillflyktsort_," he replied, putting the car in park and relaxing his body.

Pam locked eyes with me, and somehow she knew.

"We need to talk," she said. I just nodded.

She took a pack of moist wipes out of the glove compartment and wiped down her face. They were the kind Tara that used to wipe the twins' butts with. "Sookie and I are going for a little walk," she announced. Bill sat forward, words of protest on the tip of his tongue, but Pam cut him off as she reapplied some lipstick and powered her face with a Channel compact. "We are going whether you want us to or not, William, so I suggest you just sit back and take five." She threw a glance over her shoulder to Sorren, though her tone was considerably softer when she spoke to him. "You too, Thor."

We both climbed out of the SUV and crossed the street. We walked in silence for a few minutes, heading for what looked like the center of a tiny town. I could smell the sea air, and saw the piers and boats just off to the side of the main street. The buildings were all made of wooden planks, the windows were small and dark. It was a very old place, like progress had skipped over it a few hundred years ago. It had an old soul. There were no lights on, aside from a few street lights here or there. No one seemed to be at home, aside from a few cats and dogs wandering the empty streets.

"Anyone around?" she asked.

I concentrated for a moment, then shook my head. "Just a bunch of people sleeping."

"Good, now do you wanna tell me what the hell is going on?"

I sighed, zipping my jacket up. It was cold and foggy, and taking a stroll in the dark with a pissed off vampire had my little neck hairs standing on end. I was about to reveal a lot of very important information to her, or admit that I was officially ready for a white padded room.

"Did Eric buy a boat a few months back?" I decided to ask.

Pam's eyebrow arched. She paused for a moment, but continued walking. "Possibly."

"And register it in New Orleans?"

"Maybe."

I kept going. "Okay. Did he know a Queen Margareta?"

She stopped in her tracks. "I remember him mentioning her."

"She gave him a pearl and diamond necklace."

Her eyes widened. "How the hell do you know about that?"

"Because Eric just put it on me, on the deck of The Valkyrie, Pam," I exclaimed. "And I saw that stake being shoved right through him."

"By who?" she demanded.

"I don't know, he won't tell me. But he's upset we're here. He said that whoever has him is luring us, that he's just waiting to die."

"Hold the line - he's communicating with you through your dreams?" she asked, astonished, if not a bit put out.

"That's what I thought it was at first, because of our bond, or because I was missing him so much. But then he stared telling me things that just don't make sense. And the last one was so real."

So we kept walking, and I told her everything about the dreams I'd been having. I told her about the songs, the injuries, the different boats, how his moods seemed to change. That he'd all but implied it was a trap we were walking right into.

"It doesn't matter, Sookie. We're going anyway."

"Of course we are," I scoffed. "But if they know we're coming, then we need to be better prepared. We need more people with us."

"That we can handle," she sighed. "Sorren's weres will come."

"And Greger would want to help."

"Sure," she shrugged. "As long as he doesn't mind becoming a Happy Meal."

"Pam," I sighed, "He's Eric's friend."

"I know that, Sookie. Look, whether you believe it or not, part of my job is keeping all of your mortal asses alive." She looked at me with the faintest of smiles. "Especially yours."

I smiled back at her, even if it was a tiny, sad one. "I'm sorry if you've been mad at me."

She sighed, waving her hand. "Ah, it's not your fault."

"He loves you in a way I'll never get."

"Damn right." She squared her shoulders proudly, but it was a moment of pride that I allowed her to have with no judgment. We looked at each other, and I knew my good 'ol Pam was back.

Both caught up in our own thoughts, we walked closer to the water's edge. I looked over the side of the walkway and saw many small fishing boats and skiffs. I could hear the water lapping on the ancient seawall and the sounds of the boats rubbing against the wooden piers. I'd been to the harbor in New Orleans, but this was completely different. New Orleans was huge and dirty and overwhelming. This place smelled of seaweed and old wood and fish and history. It made my body feel comfortable and relaxed. I felt like I was at home.

Because part of my body was home. A very small part of me that flowed through my very heart.

I looked out into the harbor, and the light bulb finally blinked on. I shook my head, damning myself. I was such an idiot. He'd been sending me messages about the water the whole time. Why had it taken me so long to figure out?

"Oh my God, Pam," I whispered. "They have him on the boat." She didn't answer me and I turned to her, my eyes blazing. "Pam!"

She wasn't even paying attention to me. She was turned around, staring up at a statue we'd walked right by. Her mouth was hanging open, and bloody tears were brimming on her bottom lashes. I turned around to look, and felt the air catch in my throat.

It was a monument. A bronze statue, blackened with age, stood atop a beautifully carved piece of granite. The statue was of an adolescent girl with long braids and yearning eyes, wearing a nightdress and holding her hand out the sea. There was a plaque at her feet.

"What does it say?" I asked, my voice trembling.

She cleared her throat, and then replied in a hoarse whisper, "_Evigt vila för vår lite Freyja." _She looked to me and translated. "Eternal rest for our little lost Freyja."

A chill went down my spine. Pam and I stared at each other for a few seconds, then I looked back up to the girl's face. She had Eric's eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Sorry this took a while longer than normal - family emergencies blow. Very unpleasant details, which I'll spare you from. Nutshell, I've been too distracted to write and I wanted to get this one just right. This was the hardest chapter yet.**_

_**I've been passing the time being worried and watching Being Human. BBC version, of course. I want to put Mitchell on a stick and lick him! If you've never seen it, I highly recommend it. It's about a vampire, a ghost, and a werewolf that live in a house together and try to mainstream. It's not as high octane as True Blood, but it's very witty, emotionally intense, and the acting is brilliant.**_

_**I've also been spending some major time on my book, but I promise to update sooner next time. I miss your kind words, so gimme gimme gimme reviews! You know I'm a junkie.**_

_**And now, I am happy to announce the return of Mr. Eric Northman...**_

_**As always, props Ms. Harris.**_

**Chapter Eleven**

Sorren sat in front of an open laptop. The glowing screen illuminated his pale face, casting his eyes in darks shadows. "The good news," he said, "Is that the boat's tracking device is still activated."

"So we'll be able to find it?" I asked anxiously.

"Yes, I'm waiting for the security company to email me the coordinates right now," he replied.

"Okay, and the bad news?"

Pam snorted. "Either they're incredibly stupid or they think _we're _incredibly stupid."

The rest of us looked to Sorren for clarification. Pam, Bill, Greger, and I were sitting around a tiny table on the bridge on our "borrowed" boat. It wasn't anything nearly as glamorous as the vessel we were chasing - a forty year-old fishing trawler that smelled worse than I could ever explain- but it got the job done. Greta was leaning against the wall next to us, an enormous pout on her face. Her father, Henrik, was steering the boat, but I could tell he was listening to every word we said. From what I'd gathered since meeting him three hours earlier, he was an older, male version of Greta. A little wiser, perhaps, but just as surly and suspicious.

"Basically," Sorren said, "If Marcus is the one that has him, we can go ahead and assume one of two things. He's old, and many of the old ones aren't as tech savvy as Eric or myself. He could've just left the beacon on with no knowledge of it even existing. We also know that he's strong, possibly stronger than Eric. But could he keep Eric down by himself? Personally, I doubt that. I think he has at least three or four other people with him. Vampire or were, it doesn't matter - they're all gonna be strong and hard as hell to get rid of."

He looked around this motley crew gathered together with the best of murderous intentions, looking each of us in the eyes one a time. He was preparing us for the worst of it now, and we all just stared back at him, unblinking.

"I think they left the homing device activated with the intention of us trying to find them." Pam and I silently locked eyes, as he added, "They're luring us."

"It's a trap," Greger said, his voice more of a weak question than a statement.

Sorren nodded. "_Ja_."

"_Oäktingar_," Henrik muttered. I had no idea what that word meant, but I'd heard it more than once come out Pam's mouth, so I could only assume it was dirty.

"We _are_ the stupid ones," Greta said, shaking her head with a cigarette hanging between her lips. She slid the deck door open and left the room with a quick whiff of smoke.

Bill sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, anger etched all over his face. "Sookie should not be here."

"Where the hell else would I be?" I asked, my voice full of simmering anger. "Sitting in a hotel, watching TV while the rest of you die trying to do my dirty work?"

"We all have obligations to Eric, Sookie, in our own way," Sorren added, though it was in a gentle, unobtrusive way.

_"I am his wife." _

My words were firm and loud, and it was the first time I'd ever said those words and really meant them. It was the first time I'd said them without pretense of any kind. I hadn't traded a ceremonial dagger with him to merely keep me from the clutches of another vampire. I wasn't his fake wife only to be paraded around Victor or Philip DeCastro. I wasn't living a completely separate life in another town. I was a woman who was desperately scared of losing the only man she had ever felt real love from. I was Eric's wife.

The computer beeped.

No one moved or said anything for a few seconds. We all knew that if we turned around now, Eric would be dead before we changed our minds. Finally, I leaned forward and said in a very challenging voice, "Well?"

Sorren gave me a encouraging half smile, then looked over my shoulder to Henrik. "57 degrees north by 16 degrees east."

Henrik nodded, already pushing the coordinates into the navigation thingy. "Aye, captain."

"Alright then, people, let's do this thing right." Pam stood up, zipping her sleek and trim leather jacket up to the neck. Her hair was secured into a high, yet stylishly poofed ponytail. She smiled as she hoisted one of the duffel bags full of weapons onto the table. "Now, be fair, split them up evenly. There's enough to go around for everyone."

While everyone milled around our little arsenal, chattering about calibers and clip holders and how to properly throw a hand grenade, Bill moped in the corner. He seemed to wait until I noticed his funk, because the second I made eye contact with him, he stormed out of the room onto the deck. I sighed and rolled my eyes. He was going to tell me what he was fretting over one way or another, so I figured I might as well go ahead and listen to him. I knew he was probably going to risk his life for mine before the night was over, so that earned him a little of my respect. Plus, if we were outside, I could yell at him if I chose to without embarrassing him in front of Pam.

The wind bit at my skin as I stepped outside. It was bitter cold on the water and the boat was moving at a fairly good speed through the dark night. I pulled my fluffy hood over my head and stuck my hands into my pockets. I saw Greta, leaning over the railing and puffing away. Even she had her black biker coat fastened up to her neck with the collar turned up.

"You'd better get in there," I said to her. "They're passing out guns like Tootsie Pops."

She winked at me, flicking the butt overboard. "Oh goody."

I heard the door slide shut behind me as I headed toward the back of the boat. Bill would have gone in the opposite direction of the were without even thinking about it. Sure enough, there he was, elbows on the railing and looking back toward the shrinking city lights of Kalmar harbor. I walked a little closer to him and he stood up, but kept his back to me.

"What did you expect of me?" I asked. "Really?"

He shook his head. "I had hopes, I expected nothing."

"Hopes of what? Me running into your arms? Forgetting everything that happened between us?"

His silence spoke volumes.

"Bill," I sighed, taking a few steps closer to him. "I am a very forgiving person, because that's the way that I was raised and that's the way I chose to live my life. I have forgiven you, many times over in my head and in my heart. But I will never forget the way you betrayed me. I learn from every terrible thing that happens to me - I'm not the naive little barmaid that you met at Merlotte's four years ago."

I couldn't hear his sigh over the rushing water sounds, but I watched his shoulders heave up and fall down miserably. "We will never get past this."

He turned around and looked at me with those damn eyes of his. He took a few steps and the space between us was suddenly gone. There was a little part of me that always cried out and felt mushy when he got too close to me. It was the part of me had that loved Bill and felt pain every time I thought of how he broke my heart. It was the part of me that could still look at him and see a handsome, dignified man who, in his own way, was actually a good person. A good person that was capable of making terrible decisions.

He looked down at me and that little part of me was screaming. The wind was blowing in his hair and he smiled kindly. He would never give up on that Southern charm of his, which let's face it, I was a sucker for. That was one of the reasons I fell so hard and fast for this man, like a fool. Like a little girl.

I wasn't a little girl anymore. I had the scars to prove it.

"I will do whatever is necessary to protect you," he said with a tone of finality.

"I know you will. And I'll do whatever it takes to get Eric back."

"I know you will."

We stood there, and just stared at each other. Not much to say after that.

Our conversation was stopped blessedly short, when we felt the boat slowing down. The engine stopped, and it was only then that I realized I couldn't see anything around us. The lights of the city were gone, obscured by a thick wet, cloud. We were rolling into a fog bank and I felt a tinge of fear in my chest. It added something creepy and dangerous to our situation.

Pam stuck her head out of the cabin and looked back at us. "We're here, if you two wanna stop making out and go rescue your _husband_." Her voice was at its usual sarcastic best, but the way she arched her brow and frowned told me she was going to tattle on me when it suited her best.

I smiled a little as I walked past her. It was good to have her back on my side.

Despite my trepidation, everyone else was tickled pink about the sudden onset of fog. The sun would be coming up soon and I could sense the vamps in the room getting itchy. This was part of the plan though, because they couldn't follow us once the sun was up. The fog gave both sides a little more wiggle room, because as long as it lasted it would be cover from the sun. The Valkyrie was set up with all sorts of high tech gizmos, but a lot of them didn't work as well in the fog. I wondered what the point was of having gizmos in the first place if they weren't gonna work when you needed them the most, but hey, it suited us just fine.

"She's about four hundred yards off the port bow," Henrik said. "The current will take us in the right direction."

We had to get to the boat as quietly as possible in the two dinghies we had also obtained by less than honest means. Henrik was the only one that knew how to drive the boat, so he would have to stay on board. Once we were on the Valkyrie, he'd get closer so we could just hop back on and make our get away.

"Remember," Sorren said with stern authority. This was obviously not the first time he'd lead a troop into battle. "This is strictly a seek and rescue mission. They will end this one way or another, but we stand to have a better advantage back in the city. We get Eric, we get out. If you can safely take one out, do it. It's one less for us to deal with later, but don't go looking for a fight. Stay in pairs, and stay quiet. I don't want any hero bullshit out there."

Sorren looked directly at Bill when he said this. Bill glared at him with stony eyes, his jaw flexed with tension. Sorren had just hit the nail right on its stubborn jackass of a head.

"Pam and I will take point. Greta and Greger, head below deck, cover Sookie and Bill while they check the cabins. They have to be keeping him somewhere light proof. Pam and I will stay up on deck and cover the main hatch. Maintain radio contact unless told otherwise."

We were all wearing remote ear pieces, very Navy SEAL.

"Any questions?" Sorren asked.

"What do we do when we find him?" Bill asked.

"He'll more than likely be unconscious, so you'll have to carry him," Sorren replied. "Sookie is confident that she will be able to communicate with him."

He sighed with disapproval, but nodded anyway. He was right to have doubts, this was the weakest part of the plan. We had all argued about it for over an hour while we were waiting for Henrik to show up with the boat. There was no way to guess how Eric would react to us, but we were out of options. Sorren and Pam were physically the strongest, so they had to be our offense. Greger and Greta were simply our defense while Bill and I searched the boat. I knew Bill would agree to no one else being with me, so I didn't bother to arguing. I had a plan of my own, just in case, but I kept it to myself.

"Anything else?"

I cleared my throat, and timidly spoke up. "I'd like to say something, if that's all right."

"Of course, _liten flicka_."

I gazed upon them, most of whom I hadn't even known two days before. Now, they looked back at me with kind faces and steely eyes. Pam smiled with the knowledge that she was about to make some people very dead. Bill stared at me as like I was about to recite my last will and testament. Greger was doing his best to fit in, looking like a plump GI Joe in his black fatigues and combat boots. I was sure he was well aware of his odds. Greta, with a teeny smirk on her face, actually seemed like she was enjoying herself.

"Um, I just wanted to thank ya'll for stickin' your necks out like this," I said humbly. "I think we all know that I couldn't do this on my own and I'm real grateful for the help. Eric is very lucky to have friends like you. Whatever happens, I just wanted you to know that. That's all," I said with a shrug, and looked back to Sorren.

"Right then," he said, picking up a gun bigger than my arm. "May Odin be with us. May the Valkaries watch over our battle. May the halls of Valhalla await our arrival."

Twenty minutes later, we were off. I had been armed to the teeth and forced to wear a very unflattering black jacket to hold in all of my armaments. We each had a gun loaded for vamps with silver cored wooden bullets, and one loaded for weres with hollow point nasties big enough to take down a moose. I however, along with Greger, had been given extra weapons to shove anywhere one would fit. I even shoved a pocket knife down into my boot.

I watched as Sorren and Pam climbed over the stern railing, sleek and silent like a pair of panthers. I closed my eyes and scanned the area for any telltale mental signatures. No weres on board, just the empty voids of vampire minds. Sorren looked down at me as I held up my vamp gun with one hand and motioned the number five with the other. Five vamps, plus Eric. He was so close, it was making my heart palpitate.

They crouched down in the corners of the deck, their guns and fangs at the ready, but no one came. After a minute that seemed like an hour, Sorren signaled us up. The fog was rolling over every surface and I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of me. Sorren moved forward as Greger and Greta walked on either side of Bill and I. Pam brought up the rear. I couldn't help but marvel at our surroundings as we tip-toed along. It was exactly as it had been in my dream. The colors, the textures, the swirling mist. I got distracted, looking through empty windows. It was too late by the time I noticed the three black spaces quickly surrounding us, from both sides and above.

And then it all went to shit.

Pam was silvered by an enormous dark skinned vamp before any of us could stop it. He threw a net over her face and her screams echoed through the dense air. A beefy vamp that looked like the Terminator grabbed Sorren by the elbow and his gun careened into the harbor. Another one jumped out of the fog hovering over the roof of the cabins and landed on Bill, holding a steak to his throat. The black vamp leapt over Pam's writhing body and jumped on top of Sorren as well. They knew exactly what they were doing, I realized as they completely ignored Greger, Greta, and I. They were getting rid of the bigger threats. Two humans and a baby werewolf were not fair game.

I looked down at Pam, and almost reached down to help her when I saw her skin sizzling under the silver mesh. But she screamed out, "Go, go!" So I ran.

I didn't need to look, I just kept going until I knew he was there, my Eric radar blipping steadily in my head. I hopped down a small flight of stairs and navigated the narrow hallways like I'd lived there all my life. In front of me was a closed hatch, it's small window taped over from the outside. As I reached out for the handle, the door swung open and another sumo-sized vamp was standing in front of me, fangs out.

I didn't have time to grab my gun, as he pulled me into his grasp and wrenched my neck to one side. I felt his saliva drip on my skin and I screamed until my throat dried out. His fangs sank into my neck and his arms squeezed around me, when I heard a shot. He turned into a pile of vampire Jell-O at my feet and all down the front of me.

I looked up and saw Greta with her arms locked in the air, still pointing the gun. She was trembling and looking horrified at what she'd just done. Greger came up from behind her and gently pushed her arms down.

"Thanks," I said.

She merely nodded, not even trying to look tough.

"Watch the door."

Another nod.

The moment I turned around and walked into that room seemed like slow motion. I breathed, in and out, and all I heard was my breath. I saw Eric, slumped in the corner of the galley, half sitting up against a cabinet. His arms were held up with silver chains, or else he would've been on the floor. I couldn't see his face, just the top of his down-turned head. I couldn't see much of anything except for old blood, splattered all around.

I heard Greger gasp behind me. "Oh, God, we are too late."

I fell to my knees in front of him. "Go get Bill."

"He's fighting the big black one."

"Just go get him!" I screamed, and Greta pushed him back down the hall.

"You said five?" she asked, her back against the wall just outside the doorway. She was doing the same vampire math in her head that I'd done already. I nodded, one left somewhere.

I looked at him and drew in another deep breath. If he was human, he would've looked dead. "Eric?" I whispered. "Eric, wake up."

He didn't budge.

"Eric, honey, it's me." I carefully lifted his head to see his face. His eyes were shut and his cheeks were hollowed in, like he'd been starved. His skin had no color left now at all, and I could see the gray wiggles and swirls of his veins just under the surface.

I realized that his hair was gone, chopped off in blunt chunks all around his head. Why hadn't it grown back on its own? I got closer to him, examining the rest of his injuries. I saw three holes in the filthy tee shirt he was wearing, each one exposing an injury. The first was merely a scar. The second was filled in but red and inflamed and oozing a bit. The third was an open, festering hole in his side. It was where he'd been stabbed earlier that night. He wasn't healing, and he wasn't moving at all.

"Eric, " I said as I stood up to check out the chain situation. "I'm gonna unchain you and try to move you. But you gotta promise that you're not gonna eat me or drain me when I let you go. I know you can be strong."

The chain was simply looped through a cabinet handle above him and loosely tied around each wrist. I got him out of it and he flopped down onto the floor mat. I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe that he'd jump up and fly away like I'd just taken a kryptonite necklace off him. I used every ounce of strength I had in me to sit him up, but he kept falling back over.

I sat on top of him and shook him like a slap of meat. "Eric, get your ass up, you big stupid fucking Viking. Jesus in heaven," I cursed, smacking his chest. I was frustrated and terrified, but I knew that I wasn't gonna be able to handle this one on my own. Pride be damned, I turned my head toward the hallway and shrieked, "Bill, help me!"

He was next to me in a blur, covered in fang marks and blood, some of it his own. He took in the scene before him and his shoulders fell. He kneeled down on the floor next to me and let out a long sigh.

"He's alive," I insisted.

"Yes, of course," he replied, or else there'd be nothing left for me to sit on. He looked at Eric's face and touched the skin on his exposed arm. "I'm afraid he won't last much longer."

I shook my head, determined. "No, we're fixing this right now."

"Sookie, he is but a shell-"

I ignored him completely. "He needs to feed. My blood is the strongest here."

"No."

"I'm gonna let him drink 'till I can't anymore, then you're gonna heal me."

He made a guttural sound in his throat, like he couldn't even comprehend what I'd just suggested. "That's madness."

"We're doing it, Bill."

"No!"

"It'll work," I insisted.

He sighed heavily. "You could turn."

My eyebrows creased. I'd thought of that, of course. He was grasping at straws, but it had been know to happen. I'd heard the stories of donors that donated just a little too much, and woke up the next day changed. How many times had Eric urged me, how many times had he explained how easy it would be...

"I don't care," I said finally. "We'll be careful."

"You don't care?" he cried, almost laughing.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes and forehead. "Of course I care, but we don't have a choice, and we don't have time to sit here and argue about it."

"Sookie, he has silver poisoning. Look at his color. He will not be able to recover quickly, no matter how much blood he takes from you," he insisted. "Remember how long it took me to -"

"You aren't Eric," I said simply and I saw malice frost over in his eyes.

"He can't even drop fang. There is nothing we can do for him!" Bill yelled, his voice echoing against the walls of the tiny chamber. "I will not let you risk your life for a corpse."

"Fine, I'll do it myself," I grumbled through strained lips. I pulled the pocket knife out of my boot and quickly sliced my wrist open with barely a wince.

Bill grabbed my arm and the knife fell to the floor with a clink. Blood was dripping down my arm and onto his hand. Even I could smell it in the air. "He will rip you to pieces," he said through ragged breaths, staring at my oozing blood.

"Sookie?" a familiar voice whispered.

I looked quickly to Eric. His eyes were barely open and he was looking at me, his mouth opening slightly. His nostrils flared at the mere scent of my blood. Relief flooded through my body, even as I felt Bill's grip on my arm tighten. "Yes, it's me."

He looked vaguely confused, it seemed all he could move were his eyebrows. " Are they here?"

"Who, honey?"

"I can go now?" he asked, relieved.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, don't worry."

"I knew you'd save me. You are as beautiful as I've always imagined." He smiled, with a soft serenity I'd never seen on his face before. "I'm ready. Take me, my Valkyrie."

It felt like my heart was being squeezed in my chest. He thought he was finally going to Valhalla. Giant tears involuntarily dropped from my eyes and I yanked my arm away from Bill, cradling it against my chest. Blood was pooling quickly and I had to make a choice. Did Eric really want to die? What if he didn't want to be saved? After a thousand years, maybe he'd had enough. Maybe he'd just hung on long enough to say good-bye.

"Eric, it's me, Sookie," I said, touching the side of his face. He felt as cold as a piece of meat in the icebox.

He sort of nodded. "Sookie."

"Eric, I can't take you there," I said softly into his ear. "That's not my job, honey. But, I can let you go if you want me to."

"This is insanity." Bill pulled on my shoulder. "Let me heal you before you bleed out."

I turned from Eric's empty gaze and stared up at the man I had once loved, the man I had once thought was the center of my life. I felt something akin to hate, I realized, and it caused anger to boil over inside me like I'd never felt before.

"Bill Compton, it is a miracle that I am even speaking to you after everything you have done to me," I said, my words clipped and stern. "If you turn your back on him right now, I swear to God in heaven that I will stake you dead the first chance I get."

I saw the features on his face crumble and I knew that he believed me. I believed me, and for a long second I thought he might actually walk away. I was never going to be his sweet little Sookie ever again, and I frankly didn't care. I didn't have time at that moment to worry about the status of my conscience, but I bookmarked it for later thought. Up until those words came out of my mouth, maybe he really thought there was hope for us. Maybe he really thought that he was going to win me back by playing Sir Vlad Galahad. Maybe I thought I wasn't the type to refuse a dying man's wishes.

"Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast," Greta called over her shoulder from the doorway. There were the sounds of growling and things being smashed coming from down the hall.

I decided right then, that I didn't care what Eric or Bill wanted. I cared about what I wanted.

I put my wrist to Eric's mouth and he immediately began to suckle, softly like a baby. I could feel him getting stronger already. His hands reached up and held on tighter. He grasped my hand, clinging to me so I couldn't move away. When I felt his fangs pierce my skin, I cringed and bit down on my lips.

I turned to Bill, who was watching Eric chew on me with morbid curiosity. "He would do this for you if I asked him to, and you know it," I said, my words strained with pain.

It took him a moment to reply, but he finally gave a stiff, rehearsed, "He is my sheriff."

Even as he said the words, I felt my body weakening. I was getting lightheaded and my arm was throbbing. Another minute went by and my fingers were numb. I fell against Eric's chest and Bill quickly snatched me away, resting me in his lap.

"That's too much," he said.

Eric growled and reached out for my hand, but he still couldn't bring himself to move. For a second, it seemed like the color was coming back to his skin, but as his body absorbed my blood, the pallid tone returned and he fell back against the cabinet again.

"No, it's not enough," I murmured, my voice fighting against the fatigue I was feeling. "He needs more."

I looked up at Bill, who, despite the dire circumstances of the particular moment, had a happy gleam in his eyes. He bit his wrist open and put the wound close to my mouth. I hesitated, my eyes narrowing with doubt. There was two ways blood could be shared or received between humans and vampires - with pain or with pleasure. There was no in between, no mediocre missionary style quickie before the lights went out. I'd given Eric my blood and it'd hurt, because he wasn't thinking of me. He was thinking of eating.

I could wait for Sorren or Pam, but I might pass out by the time they fought their way to us. I knew I didn't have a choice as I stared solemnly at Bill's eager face. I took his wrist in my hands and closed my eyes, because I couldn't look at him. I couldn't see the look of pleasure on his face when I began to suck. I couldn't look at him as my heart began to pound faster and I pulled more and more of his blood into my mouth. His warm and velvety taste washed over me in a familiar wave, and images of Bill hovering over me in bed flashed through my mind. He moved against me and I heard him moan my name.

I felt him bulge against my back.

My eyes flew open. I scrambled away from him, wiping my mouth off with the back of my hand. My heart was beating like I'd just sprinted a mile.

His fangs clicked back in and he looked away from me shamefully. "I apologize," he mumbled.

"Fuck you, Bill," I grumbled, rubbing my wrist. My wound was already healing and I felt like my body was roasting over a cool ice fire.

"Yes, fuck you, Bill."

We both turned toward the voice. Eric was watching us.


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N : Wow, Irene had me powerless for a week! Never underestimate the usefulness of your computer until you actually don't have one. Not nice, Mother Nature.**_

_**This was another tough chapter. I got a migraine staring at the screen, but I think it's pretty good. I wanted to get that same feeling Eric had when Ocella was around, sort of helpless and humbled. I don't like Eric like that, but he needs to recover from a major trauma. Let's give him some time to get back to bad-ass status. Suggestions and opinions are always welcomed. :)**_

_**As always, props to C.H.**_

**Chapter Twelve**

"Yes, fuck you, Bill."

We both turned toward the voice. Eric was watching us.

I rushed over to Eric and threw myself at him. "Oh, my God, you're okay," I exclaimed. I was completely overwhelmed and excited to see him suddenly aware. I put my arms around his neck and tried to pull him close to me, but he still wasn't moving an inch. I turned my head toward his face, and I realized that he was glaring at Bill. Never minding the blubbering girl on top of him, his fangs were fully extended and his eyes were hooded.

Bill looked just as sinister, staring back at Eric and quickly clicking his fangs out. He stood up and loomed over us.

"Sookie, get off me."

"Eric," I started, putting my hands on either side of his face so he would look at me. I could feel his muscles twitching and I knew he was tight as a wound up rubber band about to shoot across the room and hit Bill in the jugular. I kneeled right in his lap so he didn't have a choice but look at me. "He was healing me."

"Enjoying himself too," Eric growled.

"He was helping us," I said, but even as the words came out of my mouth, I felt the heat of anger and embarrassment rising up my neck onto my face. This wasn't exactly the reunion moment I'd had in mind, with Bill's blood coursing through my body and Eric not even looking me in the eyes.

"Get off me."

"Eric-"

He pushed me away and I toppled off him as he lunged at Bill. It was a slow act that had obviously used much of his strength. He was face down on the floor before he even made contact with the now smug-faced Bill, who hadn't even bothered moving out of the way. Eric flipped himself over, cringing and grunting through gritted teeth.

"Let him drink from you!" I shrieked up at Bill.

"No," they both said simultaneously, firmly. I was sure neither one of them wanted to be sucking on each other anymore than I wanted to see them actually doing it, but dying beggars can't be choosers. Bill went on, "Only fresh blood will work."

"But Judith's blood healed you." My brain worked quicker than my mouth as I remembered the reason why Judith's blood had worked - they'd had the same maker. "Go get Pam."

"She's injured," Bill said quickly. "The silver-"

Eric groaned. "No more silver." His hands trembled as he clenched his abdomen - the wounds were opening again.

"Shit." I felt the grip of panic trying to pull me down. "Shit, shit! Eric, tell me what to do."

It was at that precise moment that Greger stumbled into the room.

Bruised and battered almost beyond recognition, his glasses were missing and he had a deep gash across one of his eyes. "Greta is gone," he wheezed. "She chased the vamp we were fighting back up on deck."

It took him a moment to stop and focus, and realize what was unfolding in front of him. Blood all over me, practically glowing in the dark with the vamp power flowing through me. Eric and Bill staring each other down like it was high noon. And I heard a very distinct voice in his head. _I know what I must do. _Just like that. He kneeled down next to Eric, rolled up his sleeve, and simply held out his arm.

Eric didn't hesitate. He grabbed Greger's arm and drank greedily. After a few minutes, I was surprised when he didn't stop. Greger's eyes were fluttering when I stood up with the intention of pulling him away, but Bill stepped in front of me and silently shook his head. Eric was on his knees then, of his own volition. Leaning over Greger, whose face was the picture of confused joy, Eric's body seemed to fill out and gain color before our eyes.

He stopped suddenly, and looked down at Greger's pallid face. Eric took his hand in his own. "You must decide," he said in a kindly voice. "It needs to be now. I do not have the strength to do it myself. Sorren, or Pam?"

"No, sir," Greger replied, sounding tired and frail. "We've talked about this before."

"I had hoped you'd changed your mind."

"Afraid not." Then he smiled deliriously. He was probably hallucinating, his body just running on adrenaline. "I couldn't stand working with Isak every night."

"What's happening here?" I demanded, stupidly. Was Eric really just gonna let Greger die? "Bill?"

"He's making his own choice, Sookie," Bill said, his voice hushed. "To take the last drop of life as the heart stops gives us great power. You know that."

"Your family?" Eric asked.

"They're prepared," Greger replied.

"They will be cared for."

"You'll let them know?"

Eric gave a small nod. "I will tell them myself. I will tell them of the great sacrifice you made."

"Thank you, sir."

"Stop with the sir bullshit," Eric scoffed. "Final decision?"

Greger sighed, apparently at ease with the matter. "Don't have the spirit for it, or the looks. Finish it then."

He looked up at me and feebly smiled, though he was not the same Greger I would have recognized at the hotel only days earlier. It seemed like months had gone by, and I felt a great sadness in my heart for this man that I barely knew. Gran would've liked him, and that thought made me feel even worse. As I smiled back at him, I held my tears back until I felt a painful lump in my throat. Drawing back like a viper, Eric took him by the neck and it was quickly done.

Gently laying him down onto the floor, Eric pressed his forehead to Greger's. "Odin når krigare ikväll," he whispered.

I heard one last thought flit from Greger's mind. _Forgive him, his love for you is strong. _He died, with his eyes open and fixed on me.

Eric stood up and breathed in a long, cleansing breath. He rolled his shoulders and head around, feeling his body mend and his muscles begin to move together again. His hair, though it didn't grow as long as it was originally, became full and lustrous and evened out just below his ears. He ripped the tee shirt from his body and stood there in jeans and bare feet, feeling along the ripples of his stomach with his fingers. His flesh was healed, his skin once again shining in a way only I could see. He looked up at me and for the first time since I'd walked into the room, he smiled.

Then I did what any other good southern girl who'd just seen someone die in front of her at the hand of her vampire boyfriend would do. I burst out crying. I couldn't say what particular emotion triggered it, because I was feeling at least thirty of them at the same time. I just couldn't hold it in for a second longer. He held his arms out to me and I was against him in an instant. I heaved and sobbed like a blithering idiot as he soothed me with a quiet shush and a soft rub against my hair.

"Did he have any children, or a wife?" I wept.

"No, only some elderly distant relatives. Vamps killed the rest of them before the Revelation." He lifted my chin with his fingers and looked down at me with compassionate eyes. "He was a faithful friend. He made this choice a very long time ago."

"I liked him."

"I did too." He held me tighter, not bothering to quantify it any further. "I thought I told you not to do anything stupid," he whispered.

I shrugged as he wiped the tears off my face. "Old habits, you know."

He chuckled, gently kissing my forehead. "You should not have come, lover."

"Did you really think I wouldn't?"

"Not for a second. Now I will have to get us both out of here."

"Yeah, you've been doin' a real bang up job of that so far."

I didn't say it to be funny, but he laughed again. It was inappropriate and weird at that moment, sure, but the sound of his laughter took a weight off my heart that'd been there since he'd flown off my front porch. There were a thousand questions that needed answering, plus we needed to get our asses back onto the other boat, but instead, we stood there for a quiet moment in each other's arms. Just in case, maybe. He leaned over and kissed me, and it was one of those for-the-first-time-for-the-last-time sort of kisses. His hands came up onto my face and I grabbed around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

For a moment, it was as if we were somewhere else. Then we heard a shuffle, and a creek.

Eric's arm flew out like a frog's tongue and grabbed Bill by the neck just as he was hedging toward the doorway. Bill was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and not move, though I'm sure all three of us were questioning if Eric really could over power anyone at the moment.

"Compton. Remind me to repay you the favor when we get back to Area five."

Swallowing down his pride, Bill's only reply was, "Sherriff."

Suddenly, the boat's engine roared to life. Looking up, I listened to the minds moving around above me but I couldn't make it heads or tails of it. Vamp and were minds running, disappearing, moving closer toward us.

"Something's happening," I said quickly. My eyes darted between the two men in front of me, one still being held still by the other's fingers. "Eric, " I urged, pulling his by his other arm. I quickly bent down and closed Greger's eyes, said the fastest prayer of my life, and walked away from him. I didn't let go or look back. I stepped over the remains of the sumo vamp and pulled on Eric until he followed me and I knew he'd let Bill go. Eric pushed his way in front of me as we rushed though the hallway, cautiously passing darkened rooms and doorways.

When we climbed the stairs onto the upper deck, I almost slipped in the puddle of vamp remains. Desperately searching for the rest of our group with my eyes as well as my mind, I realized the other boat was gone.

"Bill!" I cried out, pointing in the direction of the fishing boat retreating into the fog ahead of us.

"Damn it!" he yelled, watching helplessly as if sailed further out into open water. "I warned Sorren not to trust that dog."

"Sorren is with you?" Eric demanded.

"He was," I sighed. I scanned the area for familiar mental signatures. I felt two vamps close to us, and a were mind that was dreaming or unconscious. "Greta's here, I think she's hurt. Two other vamps."

"Greta?" Eric asked, then he realized who the dog was Bill had just insulted. "Henrik too?"

"He's driving the get-away boat," Bill said with an exasperated wave of his hand.

"And Pam?" Anger was rising in his voice, though he didn't yell.

"With Sorren," I sulked.

"_Son av en satkäring," _Eric grumbled, running his hands through his hair. Shocked as hell, he looked back at his hands and pulled on his sheared hair. _"Den oäkting! Fostra fuckeren!" _Then he looked at me, like I had any idea of what he'd just said. Again, going with the out-of-Pam's-mouth idea. "The fucker cut my hair, _again!"_

Eric stalked off, but being barefoot, it didn't have as great affect as I'm sure he wanted. He leaned over the side of the boat, gripping the wooden railing until his knuckles were bony and white. I had no idea what to say to him. I've never had to talk to a hostage after the rescue, because I'm usually the hostage. Just as I reached out to touch his back, to comfort him in any small way, he turned to me.

"I told you not come, Sookie."

My voice stuttered, like a teenager trying to come up with a valid excuse for doing something incredibly foolish. "It-it was just a dream."

"Don't try to play stupid now, now that you're here and we're stuck!" he yelled, gesturing with his arms wide open.

"_We, not I, _came here to save your ass, Eric."

"That was no dream."

I couldn't process that statement at the moment, so I conveniently skipped over it. "You'd still be tied up in silver right now -"

"You'd be dead," Bill interrupted. He stood behind me, meaning to defend my words I suppose.

Eric took it differently. His eyes narrowed, his voice became dangerously low. "And yet you found no vice in defiling her in front of me."

Bill tried to push past me, but I put my arm out in front of him and stood between the two of them. Eric turned away again, staring out into the misty blackness.

This was not the Eric I knew. He was being frantic and loud and paranoid. He was threatened by Bill's presence, whom he'd normally shrug away without a second's hesitation. He was shirtless and covered in his own blood, and had completely lost his bearings on the world around him. He wasn't fighting back.

Seeing him like that, I was quickly reminded of how I'd felt after being held captive and tortured. I was certainly not myself, not for a good, long time. Yet Eric waited, so patiently, and brought me back to life. He was not short with me, though I'm sure I made him awfully mad at times, and he gave me space when I needed it. He nurtured me and reminded me of who I was, but most of all, he just waited.

I lowered my arm and looked at Bill, urging him to understand, actually hoping that he had gotten some emotional attachment to me when he'd given me his blood. _Back off, he's scared. _He stared back at me with incredulous eyes, and I was sure he was thinking the exact same thing I was - we were sitting ducks, waiting for someone to just pluck us off one at a time. He gave me a disapproving shake of his head, yet turned the other way.

Good ol' stupid Bill.

I got a little closer to Eric, yet I did not touch him. "Eric..."

"Sookie, this vampire -"

"Marcus?"

He turned to me, a lone eyebrow arched.

"We went for a little hike before we came to get you," I said with a casual shrug.

"You found Laurus?"

"Is that his name?" I wondered out loud. "Yeah, we found him and his buddies, well, _buddy. _He told us all about Marcus and what happened with you guys."

"Then you know that Marcus is no one to be trifled with."

"I know he couldn't even get those cave freaks to come help him."

"Do not misjudge him," Eric said. "He has spent the last seven hundred years searching the world for vamps he sired himself among the original legion. He's only found a few, but has had plenty of time to surround himself with strong progeny."

"What for?" I asked. "Why now, after all this time?"

A voice rang out behind us. "Why indeed, my dear?"

I flipped around in a blink, my reflexes switched into overdrive, thanks to my giant dose of vamp blood. There were two men standing behind us - we hadn't even heard them approach. Bill was being held by the forehead with a silver stake poised at his throat by another huge vampire. This one was old, I could tell just by looking at him, plus the fact that Bill wasn't bothering to struggle in the least. The other man just stood there with a cocky smile across his face. He looked middle-aged, well tanned for a vamp. His Mediterranean features suited him, with very dark hair and bright blue eyes. He was tall, nearly as tall as Eric, and dressed like he'd just finished dinner with Donald Trump. It was easy picturing him as the leader of a Roman army.

"I assume we need no introductions. Viking, you remember Sergius, don't you?," Marcus asked, pointing in the direction of the vamp that had Bill in a head lock. "He's the one that staked you when you tried to bite his balls off."

Marcus found this wildly amusing and laughed for a few seconds, before he took a few steps closer to us, hands nonchalantly placed in the pockets of his pleated and impeccably tailored pants. Eric moved his body in front of me, but I took a step over. I wanted to see him. I wanted to stare this man in the eyes at least once. He bent at the waist, leaning over in my direction, and smiled at me with all the charm of a disguised wolf.

"So, this is who all the fuss is about, eh?" He eyed me from head to toe, then took that inevitable sniff of the air as the breeze blew my faery-ness his way. His eyes gleamed with a mischievous and frightening light. "Oh my," he grinned. "I can see they weren't lying. You're marvelous."

He was in front of me then, inches away, bent over so his eyes were directly in front of mine. I was too scared to move, or to wonder who "they" were. "Is it true that you can't be glamoured?" he asked, staring through my eyes and into my brain.

I could feel him trying to pull at my mind like a magnet, tugging at my psyche and just looking for a place he could rip it open and jump on in. After a moment, I closed my eyes and turned away, and he gasped like I'd just done a parlor trick. "Fascinating, truly fascinating. You were right keeping her all to yourself, Viking. I would've done the same thing. Sophie-Anne was a complete dullard. Always just looking for a quick fix. You've got all sorts of potential inside you, don't you?"

I stared defiantly back at him, refusing to be intimidated, which was admittedly easier to do with a six foot high wall planted in front of me. Marcus wasn't like other ancient vamps I'd met. He spoke eloquently, yet used modern words and had a highbrowed English accent. He was dressed impeccably and reeked of power and money. He was quite unlike Ocella, yet he had that same quivering aurora of dominance about him. Ocella wouldn't have known who Sophie-Anne was, nor would he have cared in the slightest to be in her presence. Ocella had no use for the modern rules that governed vamps. While Marcus, on the other hand - well, I would've put money down on him knowing the name of every powerful vamp in the world, and that he had all of their info stored in a smart phone in his back pocket.

"Now," he said, standing upright and pacing regally back and forth in front of us. "You've managed to kill two of my best men, and I have to admit that I'm mildly impressed. That's why I haven't ripped out all of your tracheas one by one yet. The rest of your little gang is on the other ship with a fellow named Günter. He's a rough one, that Günter. He'll keep them all minding their P's and Q's. Except for the baby wolf, of course, she's here with us. We told her father that we'd only rape her and pluck out her eyes as long as he steered the boat where we told him."

He stopped directly in front of Eric, smiling a touch. "Do you know where we're going, Viking? Do you?"

He was egging Eric on, trying to get a reaction. Eric gave him nothing, not even a snarl. He just held his shoulders high and kept his eyes on Marcus, like he was a moving target. "No."

"I'll give you a hint," he said with a wink. "The one place you haven't looked."

Eric's body tensed, and I saw his hands curl into deadly fists, ready to fly. He was fond of good old-fashioned upper cuts when he was hand fighting, and I saw an image of Eric swinging up and cracking Marcus so hard on the jaw that his fangs went flying.

It didn't happen. He just stood there, as Marcus gave a happy little chuckle. "No, I've said too much. I don't want to give away all of my surprises."

This was bordering on ridiculous. Why wasn't Eric fighting back at all? Was he in shock, or being compelled by some strange means? I couldn't stand there and listen to that man talk for a second more. Surely we could try to fight them. We outnumbered them, to hell with post-traumatic stress whatever. Eric had to get his shit together. I put my hand firmly on Eric's arm, meaning to send him a message of some kind. Bill was looking right at me - at least he knew what I was thinking, damn it.

I hadn't even finished curling my fingers around his forearm, when Marcus flicked out his excessively long fangs and snarled right in my face, "Don't get any cute ideas, my dear."

The fangs were gone in an instant and he looked at Eric again, his eyes darkened and no longer concealing the hatred burning behind them. His voice was barely above a whisper. "I think you'll find that I'm being more than reasonable. So I'll throw out a few choices for you right now. You could try to fight your way out of this, which is what your primitive little heart is yearning to do right now, isn't it? But we both know that the blood you've been given won't be enough to keep you going very long, and this little Confederate whelp won't do you much good against my man Sergius over here."

Sergius smiled, Bill growled.

"You could jump and try to swim to the rescue of your friends up ahead of us. However, the water temperature is about 40 degrees right now and your little faery bonbon wouldn't last long. Hypothermia and all." He paused, sliding his eyes over my way and grinning sadistically. "Or, you could go with the more sensible and obvious choice and simply enjoy the ride for a little longer. I guarantee you it won't disappoint."

Marcus turned on his heel to walk away, when I called out from behind Eric, "Why are you doing this?"

He tilted his head, almost looking sympathetic. "You don't know? Well, let's see if I can sum this up in a way that your little brain will understand. Your big, beautiful Viking did me wrong, a long time ago. I'm not talking stealing my wife or killing my dog types of things. I'm talking about dishonoring my name in such a barbaric way that my entire family and all of my descendants were banned from the Roman empire forever and a day. You keeping up with me?"

I eyed Eric, who was still peering down at Marcus like a hawk. "...Yes."

"Good. Now here's the part where you come in. I've had a long time to think about my revenge. That's the pesky thing about revenge - the longer you have to wait, the nastier your ideas become. It's best served cold, you know the line. Turns out, I've got a knack for it. I've turned into somewhat of an evil super genius, waiting all these years. Now, I've kept an eye on my old boy here this whole time, in one way or another, but he's good. He's never slipped up once, never left himself vulnerable. Until now."

My throat constricted. The gravity of my situation began to dawn on me. The two men that I had normally counted on to get on to get me out of situations like this were both helpless at my sides. I almost smacked myself right then and there. When had I become the sort of girl that needed a man to rescue her? When the hell had that happened? I slowly let my eyes wander, carefully looking at my surroundings and my mind began to spin, formulating possible escapes and plans of action. I really wished I had finished that self-defense class. Marcus continued to monologue, as villains and bad guys are known to do in my presence. Again, someone underestimating my intelligence.

"Now, I'll admit that I almost went for Miss Ravenscroft a few times. You know, when I doubted my plan or when I was feeling really anxious. But I'm so glad I didn't, because here you are," he said, clapping his hands together, "And this is going to be just perfect."

"Just take me, end this," Eric said, his voice edgy and gruff.

"No!" I yelped. I couldn't stand him showing that bastard any sort of weakness, especially on my behalf.

Eric ignored me, as usual. "Take all of it, just let her live."

"I will gladly die in her stead," Bill added from the sideline.

"No!" I screamed again.

Marcus smiled at Bill. "Really, that's very sweet of you. It warms my heart, truly. But it's not your lives that I want, or your tiny little fortunes." He looked back at Eric, his fangs slowly sliding out from under his lips. "What I want is to see the look in your eyes as I drain every drop of blood from her body and then, just as she's sputtering her last breaths, I'll turn her. Maybe I'll tie you to a post, so you can wait around and watch her wake up. You can watch her obey every word that comes from my mouth, because she'll have to, and trust me, I've got a list. Then, if you'd like, I'll kill all of you. Better yet, I'll make Sookie do it for me."

That did it.

Eric's fangs clicked out and he grabbed Marcus by the lapels of his thousand dollar suit jacket. "I will rip off your fucking head and take down every living creature within my reach before I ever let you touch her."

Marcus looked down at Eric's hands, completely unfazed. His smile broadened as he said, "I thought you might feel that way. That's why there's one piece of the puzzle I've left out. One you've been looking for, for a long time. You'll be happy to see her. She hasn't changed a bit in a thousand years. Though I can't promise she'll feel the same way, what with you being an absent father and all."

Eric's face blanched, his fangs quickly retracting. "She's..."

"Oh, I've gone and spoiled the surprise. Me and my big mouth."

Eric let his fingers slid away from Marcus, who did his best to smooth out his crumpled jacket. Eric's shoulders slumped and he stood there, silent and beaten.

"I told you I've gotten pretty good at this." With that, he winked at me wickedly, slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, and strolled away down the deck.

Sergius chuckled and rumpled Bill's hair like he was a little boy, then followed Marcus onto the bridge. The three of us stood there in silence as the boat picked up speed and started moving in the same direction as the other boat.

I sat down on the cushions behind me and tightened my jacket. The wind was cutting through my exposed skin, though I already felt pretty numb. Eric collapsed next to me, blood tears welling under his eyes. Bill sat down on the other side of me, with nothing to do but stare ahead, unblinking. That's actually what all three of us did. We sat there, silent and in shock, huddled together in the cold. We stared out into the dark night, wondering what lay beyond the fog.

_**Review, review, review! Did you love it, hate it? Tell me ALL!**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Well, we all know what's on the horizon for Sookie and the gang, but here's a little side step - a well needed intervention. It will add a whole new perspective on the situation.**_

_**I'm going on a little va-ca this week (Mexican cruise, cha cha) and then my sister is getting married on the 24th, so I have some busy weeks coming up. I'm gonna do a little poolside writing, so I'll post again as soon as I can. **_

**Chapter Thirteen**

It was decided that I should spend the rest of our journey in the closet.

As it turns out, Eric and Sorren were right. I don't make good decisions under pressure. But I figured that given my choices - trying to escape or being turned into a minion of evil - I'd opt for trying to escape. I didn't get far.

Eric and Bill were busy discussing our battle options, their heads turned together in a rare moment of cooperation, so I got up and started wandering around. One casual look over the side of the boat where we'd climbed up revealed a Zodiac dingy, tied off to the bow railing and just floating there, waiting for someone to make a hasty get away. Ask me where I thought we'd go, or what we'd do once we got down to the water. I had barely laid a hand on the rope, when Sergius zoomed out of the bridge in a blur and grabbed me by the arm.

Eric and Bill both jumped up and flicked out their fangs, then Sergius put a knife to my throat.

"Now, now," was all he said. He twisted the tip of the blade and it pierced my skin.

I gasped when I felt the sting and Eric growled deep in his chest, advancing toward us. Sergius pressed the knife against the fabric over my heart. "Step back, Viking."

Bill put his hand on Eric's chest and pushed him backward. I couldn't tell if Eric just let him do it, or if Bill was actually moving him. I knew that Marcus wanted me alive, and so did Eric. That bought him some time, and fighting with Sergius would eat up valuable energy. The sky was lightening now, and we'd have to make landfall soon or be stuck on the boat for the entire day while the vamps slept. Turning me before we even got there wasn't gonna cut the butter. Marcus didn't strike me as the anti-climactic type. I shrugged toward Eric and tried to smile a bit. He just shook his head and sighed as Sergius dragged me away.

He hastily threw me into a dark room and locked the door. If Eric or Bill tried to retrieve me, they'd have to walk past the bridge, so I was stuck. I felt around the doorway for a light source of some kind, and was relieved when my fingers slide across a switch. Light from the ceiling flooded around me and I realized I was in some sort of electrical room, with lots of blinking lights and panels - and an unconscious werewolf on the floor.

I knelt down and tried to rouse her. "Greta, wake up," I whispered, turning her head toward me. I realized that she'd been brutally hit over the right temple when I saw blood matted in her hair and smeared all over the floor. The skin over her eye was ripped open with jagged, meaty edges and I could see the sickening, slick shine of her skull peaking through.

I couldn't move her any further - who knew what the extent off her injuries were- but I did place my hand on her arm. I felt a low, dark hum coming from her brain, nothing more. She was alive, just barely. She'd need to get some vamp blood in her toot sweet if she was going to survive much longer. So I banged on the aluminum door and screamed at the top of my lungs until, after several long and noisy minutes, Sergius flung the door open.

Though he looked fairly peeved, his voice was flat and unemotional. "What?"

"I suppose you're responsible for this?" I asked, mustering as much sassy confidence as I could.

He looked over my shoulder and shrugged. "Collateral damage."

"She's gonna die."

"Probably."

"She needs some blood," I insisted.

He crossed his arms, propping the door open with his enormous foot. "You've got plenty."

"You know what I mean, she needs vamp blood."

"Well, she's not getting it from me." Then he smiled. "You wanna ask Marcus to share?"

Okay, I decided to try a different approach.

"Her father isn't gonna stand for this. He's pack enforc-"

"He's a dog, just like she is."

"You know tomorrow is a full moon?" I asked, knowing full well that he did. All supes felt the waning and waxing of the moon, including myself.

He leaned in a little, like he was about to tell me a secret. "You know tomorrow you'll all be dead, so it doesn't much matter, does it?"

"You can't just let her die," I cried, my frustration and physical exhaustion starting to rear its bitchy head.

Yet he was unmovable. "You're the faery. You figure it out."

The door slammed shut in my face. I sighed, bowing my head. _You're the faery. _"Yeah, a lot of good it's doing me right now," I grumbled.

Well, I knew some basic first aid from working in a bayou bar prone to late night brawls, and from watching the nurses take care of my various wounds over the years. I figured that there was no time like the present. Big girl pants officially on. I was about to bend down to Greta's side again, when there was a strange fizzling sound in the tiny room and then a barely audible "pop." Wait, I knew that sound...

My uncle was standing next to me.

"Uncle Dermot?" I cried, immediately realizing my voice was too loud.

"Hello, niece," he said in a mild tone, taking me in his arms. I was shocked as a frog in boiling water seeing him suddenly materialize, but I leaned into his embrace none the less. Just breathing in the air around him and feeling his aura touch mine put me at ease. (It's a fae thing, don't ask me to explain it.)

"What are you doing here?" I whispered.

"Helping you with your vampires again." His voice was kind, but it still made me feel childish and guilty.

He looked at me with those eyes that were so familiar. Not just because he was the spitting image my brother, but because he'd been living with me for almost two years and I'd become sort of dependant on seeing the compassion in his eyes every day. I'd become used to his simple ways - how he chuckled every time the phone rang, or how he misused slang words with often hilarious results. He was stuck between the human and faery worlds like I was.

He'd been addled by a spell when I first met him, and I could only assume was back to his normal self. He was still a little slow out of the gate sometimes, not unlike like Jason. It seemed to fit them both well enough. A touch on the dim side, but every once in a blue, they'd open their mouths and little golden nuggets of wisdom would just roll right out. Before Claudine died, she'd once told me the two of them were very alike, sort of kindred spirits. That's why my great-grandfather, Niall, didn't bother with either of them.

Thinking about my faery kin made me long for home. I felt terribly guilty for leaving without so much as warning Dermot or my cousin Claude, who also lived with me. We made a strange little family, the three of us. My life had become unusually normal after Eric stopped coming around. Even Jason had started hanging out sometimes, when Michelle was working or when he was hungry. Really though, I knew he felt a secret desire to be with his family, to feel the love that only a family could give you. We all did.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you or anything," I said. "You've both been so busy at the club, I sort of forgot."

"It's alright. I was very worried when I came home and smelled vampires in the house, but Sam called early in the morning and explained everything," he explained. "Oh, turns out, your cat doesn't take kindly to shifters."

My eyes widened. I was a terrible person, I'd forgotten all about the cat. "Elsa?"

"Don't worry, she likes Claude and I well enough. We're caring for her, but she pretty much runs the house now. She's very unique, that cat. But you knew that."

I shrugged. "Eric gave her to me."

"Hmm," he said with a little nod. "She has fae blood in her, your blood I suspect."

"Yeah, I sort of thought that too," I sighed, regrettably. Why couldn't he just get me a cat? Why did it have to be a super cat? I would've gladly taken one from the ASPCA. Just when I'd even been reminded of a normal life...

A few seconds passed, and Dermot added, "You are far wiser in the ways of this world than I, and I'm sure that Sam spoke to you of the dangers you are facing."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course."

"So I'll just get on with it then and tell you why I'm here." Dermot took a deep breath. He grasped me by the shoulders and, preparing to scare the utter shit out of me, he said, "Niall sent me."

I was astonished. "What?"

"He came to the house, told me what was happening."

"I can't believe it," I mumbled. "Why didn't he just come himself?"

"Wasn't in the mood for starting any vampire business," Dermot said, "But he watches over you, especially since..." Since Claudine died.

"Oh." To my knowledge, Niall hadn't stepped foot in the human realm for over two years, not since he'd closed the portals between our world and his. That's how Dermot had got stuck at my place. We hadn't exactly left things off very well, but I wasn't really surprised at the news of him poking around. "What'd he say?" I asked.

"Not much honestly. Just gave me orders to help you out and told me that he'd open the portals for only fifteen minutes. If I don't get back in time, then I'm stuck where ever I land." His voice betrayed the bitter sadness he felt. Niall was his kin as well as mine, but the older faery had no love for Dermot, who was half human and had once sided with an enemy of Niall's. (Faery politics blow vamp shit out of the water, by the way.)

"I don't know how can you help me right now, unless you can zap all of us off this boat with you." My face lit up and my shoulders lifted. "Can you do that?"

"No, niece. You know my power isn't as great as it once was, especially with Claude working all the time and with you refusing to practice."

I frowned. _Practicing _made me feel like a bigger freak than I already was.

He sensed my frustration. "You aren't without powers of you own, Sookie. You need only access them. You have been given this gift of a sixth sense, this telepathy you call it. It can be used in other more...cunning ways."

"Such as?"

"Shaping people's thoughts."

I blinked. "Like glamouring?"

"In a way of speaking, yes."

"Will it work on vamps?" I asked quickly.

"It's possible, with practice."

"I don't have time to practice, Uncle Dermott." I pointed down at Greta. "She's dying. Can you help her?"

"I'm not a healer, niece-"

"But can't you just try, anything?" I pleaded.

He puckered his lips together for a second, then blew out a big puff of air. "You'll have to help me." He knelt down next to her and motioned for me to join him. "Faeries that have healing powers use their own energy and transfer it to another person. Perhaps if we both try..."

"Anything," I nodded, copying his movements. I placed my hands on her arm and closed my eyes.

"Concentrate on your aura," he said in a hushed voice. "See it all around you. You are strong and healthy. Imagine giving part of that strength to this child, see it moving from your body to hers. Give it freely to her and the power will flow between you."

We stayed like that for a few seconds, my eyes clenched, thinking harder than I ever have. I pictured my aura, and I imagined a beautiful misty pink color surrounding my body. Now, my brain usually works the other way - I keep my thoughts and other people's thoughts nicely separated, or else I'd go crazy. When I actually felt my essence moving around me and slowly flowing in the opposite direction, I gasped and almost let go.

"Easy, easy, it's working." Dermot said.

My hands tingled as I felt part of myself flowing into Greta. When I opened my eyes, I saw my uncle glowing sunny yellow. Greta's aura, which had been gray and mottled, began to lighten as a faint golden glow swirled under our hands.

"Holy shit," I whispered.

"Faery shit," my uncle corrected.

After a minute or so, I felt a stir from Greta's brain. She wasn't healed physically, but I knew that she wasn't going to die. It was like she was sleeping. Her breathing deepened and she let out a long sigh as her aura gradually blended back to its normal deep red color. Then the colors all began to fade. I blinked, and they were gone, invisible to my eyes once again.

I squeezed my uncle's hand, as I sighed with happy relief. "Thank you."

"Quickly now, I don't have time to waste." We both stood up and he took my hands in his own. "This will have weakened any possible powers you have."

"I know, it was worth it. Now how do I do the mind thing?"

"It's more difficult, takes more control, especially if you can't touch the other person," he said. "But it's the same. Imagine your aura flowing around that person. Instead of sending them strength, send an overwhelming desire, a strong emotion. Make them feel what you are feeling, imagine them like a sponge soaking up your will."

I nodded, though the idea of actually doing that to someone seemed just awful. "Okay, I'll try."

"Do it on a human first, or don't do it at all. They won't be able to feel you prodding their brain. A vampire will feel it coming a mile away, if you do it half-assed."

I smiled a bit. Jason had taught him _half-assed_. He'd be proud to know Dermot had used it the right way this time.

"There's one other thing, something Niall asked me to give to you," Dermot said.

A gift from Niall? My heart leapt at the very thought, and I realized in that instant how much I really did miss him. I wanted to be near him and talk to him and ask him a million questions, but the longest time I'd ever spent with him was over dinner in a Shreveport restaurant with Eric outside, waiting to drive me home in the 'Vette. That day had been the start of a lot of things.

"Now, please don't be angry with me, but Niall insisted."

"What is it?"

He spook with increasing speed. We could both feel his time ticking away. "A gift from your grandmother, bestowed to her from Fintan, my brother and your paternal grandfather. She hid it in the attic many years ago - Niall knew exactly where it was and told me to go get it. It was packaged with a letter addressed to you, from Adele. I didn't bring the letter because it's very fragile and it has information in it that Niall didn't want in the hands of his enemies."

A flash of Eric's letter, currently residing in the liner of my suitcase, passed through my mind. I nodded, my throat tight with tears. Clearing them away, I said, "Okay, I understand."

He reached into the front pocket of his khakis and gently pulled out a velvet bag that had once been red, but now looked crumpled and old. I cupped my hands and he slipped a small object out of the bag into my palms. It was round with a flat bottom, like a tiny Limoges box. It was a creamy green color with gold all around the edges.

We both stood there for a moment, staring at it with deep admiration. "What is it?" I asked wondrously.

"It's called a cluviel dor. It contains great power," he replied. "I've never even seen one before."

"What does it do?"

"There's so much to explain to you. I have mere minutes," he sighed. "Basically, if you need to use this object, it must be your absolute last resort. A cluviel dor can only be used once."

"How?"

"You make a wish. Not just any wish, but one that will change your life. A cluviel dor is given to someone as a gesture of great love, as a tool to grant that person's greatest desire. Your grandmother never used it, but her love for you was strong enough to pass the power along to you."

"Fintan gave this to Gran?" I asked, my voice humbled.

"Yes he did, but that story will have to wait for another day," he said. "You must remember - using this sort of magic does not come without consequence. Changing your fate is nothing to be taken lightly. Your desires will affect those around you as well as yourself."

"Okay, I understand."

He shook his head impatiently. "No, you can change everything. You can turn back time, right back to the day you were born if you wanted. You could forget everything that has happened to you since you met Bill Compton."

"And Eric," I whispered, eying the little box suspiciously.

"Me as well."

"But I'll still be fae." I mused.

"Yes, of course."

"That's a big choice you just plopped into my hands," I said with a sigh.

"It is, one that Niall thought you were ready for."

"Do you?"

He looked at me with pensive eyes for a moment, then cupped my cheek and smiled. "You will move where your heart takes you, my dear girl. But that doesn't always mean it's the best place to go. That is your burden to bear, and it always will be. You must choose your actions wisely."

Talk about a golden nugget of wisdom.

I closed my fingers around the tiny artifact and smiled at him. "Thank you, Uncle Dermot. You've risked so much just coming here."

"You have risked more for many people in your life, Sookie. This power rightfully belongs to you." He suddenly clapped together his hands. "I must go, wish me luck. The jump over the sea is a dooser."

I chuckled. "Doosie," I corrected. "It's a doosie."

He looked embarrassed and nodded. "Doosie, doosie, right." He quickly squeezed his arms around me (he's a big hugger) and I gladly squeezed him right back. "Be safe, niece."

"You too. Say hi to Claude and Elsa for me."

"Will do," he winked. Another Jason-ism. " See you later, alligator." One more fizzle and pop, and he was gone.

I looked down at the little piece of magic, now tightly clutched in my right hand, and muttered, "In a while, crocodile."

I sat down on the floor next to Greta and crossed my legs. Propping my elbows up on my knees, I stared down at the cluviel dor let out a long sigh. The darn thing had been in my attic this whole time. I wondered if Claude and Dermot had known about it, or sensed its presence in any way. It seemed to ooze fae essence, it practically quivered in my hand. Had Eric ever noticed it, or any of the other endless supernatural weirdos parading around my home? And if it was such a wonderful gift, then why had Gran never used it?

Gran. A letter from Gran.

I was glad I was in the closet, because I suddenly had a lot of thinking to do.

_**Review, review , review! **_

_**By the way, what did everyone think of the season finale? I already miss Jesus, but I'm so excited Russell is coming back! Any guesses as to Tara's fate?**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Wow, it's been a while. Sorry guys, I had a major block. (Not to mention four weddings, including one in Mexico. No, I'm not kidding, four, since September. I'm out of room for formal wear.)**_

_**Anyway, this is such a pivotal chapter, I wanted it to be just right. I rewrote it (and overworked it) a bunch of times and didn't like any of them. Then I took the advice of a fellow writer and just got over it. Tell me I didn't lose you, please! We're going uphill toward the climax of this little saga, and the ending is gonna be, in a word - "tokig." Stick around, the old Eric is just around the corner.**_

_**And remember, a writer who's patted on the back purrs like an inspired kitten. Hit that review button, give me MY FIX! I promise to update sooner, my juices are flowing again.**_

_**Also, I've added some translations at the end of the chapter. I usually don't, but this particular conversation is an important one.**_

_**As always, praise the creator, Ms. Harris.**_

**Chapter Fourteen**

I felt the boat slow down, then a gentle bump.

The engines silenced and I stood up from my protective squat on the floor next to Greta. The whole time I'd sat and waited in the closet, I kept whispering to her that she was going to be okay, that the full moon would heal her. She'd responded with a barely audible groan, her chest heaving under the coverage of my parka. Now, as I positioned myself between the door and her prone body, I let out a long breath and waited for them to come for me. I knew they would. I was, after all, part of the master plan. Holding a little bit of faery luck in my palm, I felt a power come from within me that had nothing to do with the cluviel dor. I felt control and courage. I felt confidence.

I was a fraud. I felt like I was going to shit my pants.

Eric and the rest of them didn't know it, but they were all now depending on me. I had absolutely no understanding of the power I held in my hand. Was it possible to change fate without there being any repercussions? My uncle had simply poofed away, after giving me minimal instructions. There had to be dangers, there always were when given such a golden opportunity. Would I lose my memories if I turned back time? How many lives would change if I wished someone out of existence? It couldn't be as simple as just making a wish.

Could it? My mind was spinning so fast I couldn't keep track.

No, no. I was in control._ Breathe. Just breathe._

I stood there for a while, my game face slowly fading. It felt like an hour went by, but I knew from experience that time dragged like a ball and chain when being held captive. My hand got sweaty so I slipped the cluviel dor into my pocket, but I stood my ground. I could feel its warmth against my thigh, and it seemed to almost vibrate just being next to my skin.

With every passing minute, I felt the dawn approaching. I also felt a slew of emotions coming from Eric's still-battered psyche. His guard was down, frighteningly so. He was aware of everything around him and his emotions were going into overdrive. At first, he felt pure rage and anger, but it quickly turned into a screaming streak of panic. If he was human, he would've been having an anxiety attack. It had been so long since I had felt anything even close to this from him, I almost didn't know what to do.

I suddenly felt the approach of two human minds, so I tried my best to push Eric's emotions to the side and focus on the task at hand. The door opened and a pair of solider types stood in the doorway with overtly large guns pointed at me. They weren't shotguns or _Glocks,_ so I didn't have a clue what they were holding, but they looked mildly threatening. Black Kevlar vests, combat boots, walkie-talkies strapped to their shoulders, the whole enchilada.

"Let's go," one of them said in a deep storm trooper-like voice. The other swung the tip of his gun at me, motioning for me to step forward.

"What about Greta?" I asked.

"Shut up," sneered the storm trooper. "Just walk, bitch."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. They were expendable human guards, nothing more. Glamoured to within an inch of their collective sanity, no name tags required. There was no point in taking offense.

I stepped in front of them and let them lead me to a gang plank on the other side of the boat. There was a small dock at the bottom, like the one Jason had out had the pond in front of this house. I kept my hands down where they could be seen, and hung my head low, but my eyes scanned the area and recorded everything. I took in as many details as I could in the waning darkness.

There was a lot of water still around us, and I could see sky over the horizon in front of me. We hadn't gone far enough to have crossed the Baltic Sea to Latvia, which was directly across from Kalmar, according to Sorren, and would have taken the better part of a day. I assumed we were on an island. Oland maybe - a large island I'd noticed on the maps. Yet as I looked around, I saw no signs of civilization. No ferry boats, no tourists. Just an old Jeep and a dirt road. Large expanses of low, rolling hills covered with flowing grasses and wildflowers. We were on private land, which meant there was no point in screaming. As usual.

Storm trooper guy roughly pushed me into the passenger seat of the Jeep while his side kick climbed in behind me, the muzzle of his gun dug comfortably into my neck. As we drove, the wind whipped at my skin and I was painfully aware of the fact that I was no longer wearing a coat. I could see frost glistening on the tips of the grass as we whizzed by.

After a few minutes of dreadful silence, we came up an open area with a mowed lawn and landscaping. The dirt changed to gravel and there was a large, expensive looking home in front of us. It had a the look of a farm house, only shiny and new. It was painted a golden yellow, with green shutters and a wrap-around porch. The driveway kept going and we drove past the house, beyond a lush backyard with a garden and veranda. It was beautiful, if not a strange mirage amid a sea of grass and scrub brush. There was also a small white barn next to a greenhouse, and a vegetable garden. Even a pool. Why the hell did Marcus need a pool? He didn't seem like the type to bother keeping his human minions stocked up with healthy snacks either.

We crested over a hill and the Jeep slowed down. A knot formed in my throat as we got close enough to confirm what I was sure I'd already seen. There, next to the side of the road like in an ol' west stick -up, my friends were waiting. Pam, Sorren, and Bill were on their knees, bound by wrist to ankle with silver shackles. Henrik was tied with mere rope, though the gum aimed at his back was enough incentive to keep him still.

The only one left unsecured was Eric. He stood apart, with his head held high, his hair loose and spiraling around in the sharp breeze. He'd been allowed to change and it appeared that he'd cleaned himself some. He looked arrogant and defiant and glorious, even though I knew he was a jumble of fear and confusion on the inside. The moment he saw me, being handled like a dangerous sack of potatoes, the confidence on his face began to crumble. When I gave him a tight smile and a wink, he blinked and seemed to quickly retained his stance. _I'm fine, all is well, _as he was fond of saying to me. He nodded curtly and stared ahead.

Storm trooper and side kick guy stood me in front of Eric, but at a distance. Then the doors of the SUV opened and Sergius and Marcus stepped out to join us. Marcus had that maniacal grin plastered over his face again. Sergius looked thuggish and bored. All of them looked completely unaffected by the fact that the sun was going to rise in twenty minutes.

"Well," Marcus said, rubbing his hands together. "Looks like we're all here now, doesn't it? What should we do, kids? Play a few games, get to know each other?"

"Just end this, Marcus," Eric said.

"What, so soon? We haven't even brought out any of the special guest stars yet."

"I give myself to you. Let the rest of them go."

"Fuck that, Eric!" Pam exclaimed. "Don't let this Roman pussy push you around."

Marcus was in front of Pam in a tick. He grabbed her face and I heard her jaw snap under the pressure of his fingers. He lifted her off the ground by the face, her skin pulling against the silver cuffs. She whimpered slightly, struggling against the gravity, but kept her eyes on his.

"Your maker should have taught you some manners, Pamela."

"Fuck you," she managed to slur.

He smirked, then threw her body over his head like a used tissue. "You would do wise to watch your mouth, young one," he said as he turned around to see her lying in a heap in the dirt. "I'll let Sergius figure out what to do with you. You won't need your mouth for anything he has in mind."

"Enough!"

Eric's voice rang through the air. All of our heads snapped in his direction as the scream carried away on the wind.

"Enough what?" Marcus yelled back. "I'll tell you when I've had enough! Did you think that after all this time I'd just let you drop to your knees? Did you think I'd let it be quick and easy?"

Eric barred his fangs and grabbed Marcus by the front of his shirt, but Marcus simply chuckled, smiling at Eric like he was indulging a child. "I'm not ready for that part of the game yet, Viking. I still have to do something with that one over there," he said, motioning to Sorren. "Maybe I'll let you two fight it out Thunderdome style. Two men enter, one man leaves. And then there's the little solider boy," he said with a flick of his head in Bill's direction. "Now, he's of no use to me at all. I'll probably just let him fizzle away out here in the back yard. Oh right, then I get to eat your girlfriend."

Eric growled deep in his chest and threw Marcus across the driveway. I'd seen him lob guys twice Marcus' size a hell of a lot further than that. I eyed Pam, who'd struggled back onto her knees. She shook her head and sighed, and I knew she was thinking the same thing I was. He wouldn't survive the fight.

Marcus stood up and brushed off his trousers, obviously not injured in any way. "Good, good! Feel that anger, grab hold of it. Let it consume you. _En ondska lagas av värre, eh, Adilsson?"̈_

Eric was seething, breathing in and out raggedly and barely holding himself still. "_Du talar inte uttrycker av min fader!" _ he spat. He pushed Marcus with both hands on the chest and the other man toppled over, skidding to a halt in the dusty gravel.

Marcus slowly smiled as his fangs slid down.

What happened next was too fast for me to see. One instant Marcus was in on the ground. The next, he was standing in Eric's place and Eric was soaring through the air. He landed on the grass half way to the house with a stomach-turning thump. I yelped and ran toward him out of sheer reflex, but I found myself face down on the sharp gravel with a combat boot on my back before I even made it half way across the driveway. Now, my body had become fairly immune to the easy rough and tumble ways of human men by this point, and I also had a surge of faery blood spiked adrenaline just waiting to shoot itself into my brain. I felt pure anger, not fear, as I flipped over and dug my heel square into the balls of storm trooper guy. Side kick guy aimed his gun at my head.

"I want her unharmed, you idiots!" Marcus bellowed as he stomped over the grass.

Side kick looked up and it was all the time I needed. I put as much force into my foot as I could muster and kicked him in the knee. His leg bent backwards and I knew I'd broken something as he fell to the ground. I scrambled to my feet, only to be grabbed by Sergius. He pulled me by the back of my hair like a caveman and dragged me behind him.

Pushing me face-first onto the grass, Sergius leaned very close to my ear and managed to grope my breast on the slide as he whispered, "Too bad I won't get a taste first. But don't worry, Marcus will get bored of you after a few decades."

"I'm bored of you already, you dead piece of shit," I mumbled against the cold blades of grass. I knew I was really going to regret that eventually, but he settled for a quick nudge on my temple with the tip of his boot.

"Don't make me kick your ass in front of your woman, Viking." Marcus said in a bored voice as he viciously kicked Eric right where he'd been stabbed. Eric curled himself up defensively as he tumbled closer to the house. "And in your own back yard no less."

_His own back yard?_ The words barely registered in my brain as I watched Eric being kicked over and over. He got to his knees, only to be kicked again. He managed to lift up his head and look my way, and I saw dismay and sympathy in his eyes. The pool, the garden, the house that looked so much like my own. I understood in an instant that Eric had built this place for me. I felt my resolve fading as he continued to get pummeled, but kept his eyes locked on mine.

Seeming to tire, Marcus finally backed away and said, "I think it's time to reveal guest number one."

Sergius opened the backdoor of the SUV. He reached in and lugged out a seemingly unconscious man. Carrying him by the back of his shirt and dragging him past my line of sight, I saw that it was the old man with the cats from Kalmar. He was badly beaten and covered in blood, the victim of the human stooges, no doubt. But why was he here now?

Sergius tossed his frail body in a heap onto the grass in front of Eric. Despite his own injuries, Eric immediately turned the man over and cradled him on his lap. He wiped the blood from his eyes and held his head still.

"_Perr_," Eric said softly. "_Se mig, Perr_."

No response. Eric looked up at Sergius. There was definite rage in his eyes and it was almost a comfort to see it. There was no doubting his feelings now. He was filled with unadulterated hatred. "You will die slowly for this," he seethed.

Sergius grinned, the tips of his fangs hanging out. "Ooooooo." He laughed and held his hands up in mock fear.

There was a sputtering sound and a cough, and the old man stirred. He tried to move but ended up shrieking and quaking with pain.

"_Inte flythningen," _Eric soothed. "_Det ska är över snart."_

_"Jag har missat dig, farfar," _the man wheezed. "_De är alla döda."_

_"Nr, Perr," _Eric sighed. "_Det kunde inte hjälpas_."

The man grabbed Eric's hand, his own hand trembling and barely able to hold on. _"Krossa dem." _he said. _ "Äta deras hjärtor."_

Eric looked back up at Sergius, then to Marcus. "_Jag ska."_

The man's eyes closed and his body sagged against Eric's arms as he died. Grief etched itself on Eric's face for the second time that night. This man, Perr, had meant something to Eric. He wasn't just a crazy old man with a bunch of cats following him. I knew I'd felt something when I'd met him, something that went beyond feeling his thoughts. I wasn't afraid of him. In fact, despite the fact that he seemed totally crazy at the time, I'd felt nothing but good intention and honesty when I'd looked into his pale blue eyes. Eyes so much like Eric's.

_Oh, Christ._

I looked over at the others. Pam had a long, bloody tear slowly falling down her cheek. Sorren whispered something in Swedish and bowed his head. Even Bill had a remarkable look of sadness on his face. He stared at me, his dark brown hair falling into his face as the breeze blew by. Were they so full of sorrow because of the loss of this man, or was it more to do with the fact that they were about to die? Or maybe because I was about to die.

Well, there wasn't much left to do then, was there?

I stood up, pretending to brush off the front of my clothes as I felt my pocket. The cluviel dor was still there, of course; I could still feel it humming away like a smooth bumble bee trapped within the folds of my pants. I marched straight over to Eric, who was still kneeling on the ground. Without delay, Sergius was on me, grabbing my upper arm like he owned me.

"Get off me!" I shouted, my voice chock-full of vehement rage.

"Let her be," Marcus said.

I seemed to be amusing him again, but I didn't care in the slightest. I wasn't playing by his rules anymore.

I yanked my arm out of Sergius' grip without sparing either one of them a second glance and knelt beside Eric. Gently placing my hands on his arm, I whispered his name. He blinked, letting me know he was listening.

"What's his name?" I asked.

"Peter, Perr. I called him Perr."

"I met him, yesterday in the square. He was nice to me, he knew who I was."

"We talked about you often."

I let out a sad sigh, and had to force myself to ask, "Who is he, Eric?"

Eric's broad chest deflated and his shoulders slumped as he said, "He was the last living descendant of my bloodline. He called me grandfather."

I closed my eyes, only for a moment, and felt a flood of anguish rush into me from Eric. I looked down at Perr and felt my own sorrow as well. And I wondered about the cats, strangely enough. What had become of the fluffy cats with the intelligent green eyes?

"Run, Sookie," he said in the most hushed voice he could manage. I could just barely hear him above the whistle of the wind.

"No."

"I won't be able to hold them off long. Take a jeep, try to get to the boat."

"I'm not leaving without you," I insisted. "Or the others."

"Our lives are forfeit now. They knew that from the beginning."

"No," I cried, my voice rising. "He wants me. He'll kill you if I leave."

"He'll kill me anyway."

"Oh, he's right about that," Marcus agreed cheerfully, clearly having heard every word we said. "I think it's time for the big reveal, don't you? Special guest number two."

Eric and I both stood up as Marcus pointed to the back door of the farm house. I quickly grabbed Eric by the hands and forced him to look at me. "Do you remember what you said to me the night you left?"

"What?" he asked, looking over my shoulder.

"Look at me, Eric. You gave me your vow."

That got his attention.

"That we'll be together, in this realm or the next," I reminded him.

His eyes narrowed a bit as he nodded. "Of course I remember."

"Good, 'cause I'm about to test your theory."

"Sookie..."

I heard the sound of a screen door close. Sergius pulled me away from Eric just in time for both of us to turn around and see who was standing on the back porch. Her flaxen hair was long and flowed over her shoulders in luxurious waves. She was tall and willowy, even for her age. Eight, if I remembered correctly. She had the face of a child, but her skin was pale as the full moon and she wore a creamy mushroom-colored silk kimono. Her glacial eyes shone with a fierceness I'd recognize anywhere.

"Freyja." Eric's voice broke like glass.

She stared at Eric, her expression unchanged. No one moved. Time seemed to slow down for a moment as we all watched them.

Blood tears welled under his eyes. He cleared his throat nervously and took a tentative step forward. "Uh, I am -"

"I know who you are," she replied quickly. She wasn't happy to see him, nor was there anger in her voice. She was merely stating a fact. She padded down the steps on silent feet, the fabric of her robe silently rippling around her. The old ones were always slinky like cats.

I couldn't help but stare at her, which she of course noticed. She glanced in my direction as she passed me. I took a deep breath and smiled one of my craziest smiles ever, a I'm-your-step-mom-please-don't-kill-me type of smile. She rolled her eyes and kept walking. Pre-pubescent vamp or not, that was girl body language for _bitch, I do not like you._

She stopped when she was an equal distance between Eric and Marcus, and they all stared at each other like they had all the time in the world. Rays of muted sunshine were cresting over the top of the house. Bill and Pam, being the youngest, were already starting to smoke.

Marcus held his hand out to her. "Come my child." And she curled up under his arm like a baby bird under its mother's wing, all the while gazing at Eric, looking exactly like a curious child should look.

It took me exactly half a second to realize that Marcus was her maker.

"Alright then," Marcus said. "We don't have time for proper introductions. Freyja, Daddy. Daddy, Freyja."

Eric was speechless. The tears ran freely down his face, but I knew he was a jumble of rage and fury that was about to boil over. He wanted to rip Marcus to shreds. Like a vampire sniper, I imagined him trying to sort out how he'd do it without hurting Freyja.

"I really wish we had more time," Marcus went on with a saccharine sweet smile. "But we'll just make do, right? Now pay attention, because here's where it gets real tricky. I'm going to let you make a choice. Which one of them lives to see another night? Your fairy princess, or your long lost daughter?"

The ambivalent look on Freyja's face changed in an instant, and she moved out of his embrace. "What?"

Marcus reached out and squeezed her tiny body back against his own, holding on to her like a wriggling toddler. "I must warn you, she's a tad on the feisty side, should you decide to take up fatherhood. She's bit me on more than one occasion, though I can't say I didn't beat the utter and complete shit out of her afterwards."

"Marcus," Freyja squealed, twisting under his arm and pulling at his elbow. "You never -"

"Shut up now, dear," Marcus said, squeezing her even tighter. Her tiny fangs dropped and she clawed at his sleeve. This clearly wasn't what she's been expecting.

The muscles in Eric's neck bulged as he began to lunge at him. But Marcus was still faster, and had a silver blade at Freyja's throat before Eric even had his foot off the ground. Freyja's eyes widened in horror and she looked to me. "This is all your fault!" she cried.

"Come on now, old boy. Whose it gonna be? You can't have your _glögg _and drink it too," Marcus said excitedly, his voice ringing with fanatical excitement. How long he'd waited for this exact moment, how many years he'd planned for all of the pieces to fall exactly into the right places.

And I was about to fuck it up good.

I reached my hand into my pocket and pulled out the cluviel dor. No one seemed to notice - all eyes were on the vampire drama unfolding to my left. I took one, long look at Eric, and I smiled. The fire inside him was beginning to burn bright once again. I was proud of him. I loved him more than I'd ever loved another person in my whole life. He was going to hate me, I realized, but I wasn't going to let him make a choice he'd regret forever because of me.

I held the cluviel dor tightly in my hand, closed my eyes, and wished.

I opened my eyes and I was standing on the dusty front porch of my own house.

It was nighttime, quiet. I could hear the crickets chirping and smell the mossy Louisiana air. I breathed it in deep and an immense wave of nausea suddenly hit me. I doubled over and threw up all over my shoes. It took a few seconds for the magic to catch up with my body, but I felt like I'd just been sucked up through a cosmic crazy straw and spit out the other end.

The screen door creaked open and I saw a pair of green and sliver running shoes standing at the edge of the mess. I looked up to see my cousin Claude, standing in front of me with a disgusted look on his face. He was wearing his workout clothes, with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Aside from the vomit everywhere, he didn't look all that surprised to see me.

"Dermot," he called over his shoulder. "She's here."

_**Review, review!**_

**Translations ****(when Eric is holding Perr)**

**Eric: Perr. Look at me, Perr.**

**Eric: Don't move, it will be over soon.**

**Perr: I have failed you, grandfather. They are all dead.**

**Eric: No, Perr, it could not be helped.**

**Perr: Crush them. Eat their hearts.**

**Eric: I will.**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Happy Halloween everyone! If you're in New England like I am, then you're snowed in right now. Say what? Snow in October, booooo! But, it's perfect for writing, so enjoy the latest installment. There's only three chapters left after this - GASP - so read it while it's hot. ;) Thank you all so much for the awesome reviews and critiques last time around. My heart grew three sizes that day.**_

_**As always, props to the fabulous C.H.!**_

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Repeat what you said one more time."

I looked across the kitchen table at my uncle Dermot and let out a long sigh. We'd been at it for almost half an hour. I absently stirred my now-cold hot cocoa and said, "I wished that Marcus was gone and that all of my friends around me were safe."

Dermot was leaning forward in his chair, like he was waiting for some sort of epiphany. (I was glad to see that they had been keeping up with the word of the day calendar.) When he got nothing from me yet again, he sat back and looked over his shoulder at Claude, who was leaning in the doorway behind us. Claude shrugged, having obviously become bored with the subject already.

"And you're sure that you weren't thinking of something else at the same time, like a specific place or person-"

"Or your Auntie Em?" Claude slipped in.

"Look you guys," I said before the two of them stared to snipe at each other again. "I told you, I didn't have time to think out what I was gonna say. I was on the spot, I wasn't even sure if I was gonna use to darn thing in the first place. I just said what felt right at that moment." I took a sip of my cocoa, and added in a lower voice, "You didn't exactly give me an instruction manual with it."

Dermot's face reddened a shade and he cleared his throat. He didn't say anything, because he'd already apologized twice. We just sat there, staring at the cluviel dor placed in the center of the table. Elsa was curled up next to it, casually sitting there like a faery sphinx. It was just a box now, a shiny little knick knack that would fit in on any shelf or mantle. The magic buzz was gone, but the creamy green container remained as a reminder of what it had held for so long.

"Look," Claude said, "You're here, so we know it worked. Maybe it just doesn't work the same way on vamps as it does on fae."

I was the only one that had popped up on the front porch so far. We'd searched the property for over an hour, then walked through the cemetery over to Bill's house. I felt nothing, but we searched anyway. I called Fangtasia, Eric and Pam's home numbers as well as their mobile phones. Nothing. I even called Alcide and told him to be on the look-out for some lost Swedish weres. Now, with all of our logical options gone, we were sitting and trying to make some sense out of what could've possibly happened to them.

"Adele was human," Dermot pointed out.

"But it was given to her by a fae, and who knows what sort of charms Fintan could've put on it."

I shook my head, frustrated. "No, that doesn't make sense. Why would Niall go out of his way to make sure I had it if it wasn't going to do the job?"

Neither one of them said a word, and that was enough to set my radar off. Dermot averted my gaze, while Claude inched his eyebrows up, like he was waiting for me to catch on. My mouth gaped open as I let the implications of this idea set in. "No way."

"No?" Claude asked.

"No, he wouldn't do that to me," I finally insisted.

"And why wouldn't he?"

"I - because - he just..." I pursed my lips together, feigning off the bitter taste of betrayal in my mouth.

"Because you know him so well?" he went on. "Because he's not capable of that sort of treachery?"

"Claude!" Dermot burst out of his chair and Elsa scampered out of the room with an annoyed mew. There was a fierceness in my uncle's eyes that I'd never seen before. "Don't say anything you wouldn't say to his face."

Something was up with Dermot. I had just traveled by the crazy faery express and then barfed all over my welcome mat - I was the one that should've been tense and moody. And since when had Claude ever deferred to Dermot's better judgment?

"Is he listening to us?" I asked incredulously.

"He's always listening," Claude grumbled, crossing his arms.

My forehead scrunched. "What?"

Again, silence from both of them.

"You've gotta be kidding me." I said. I was way too tired to show how pissed off I really was, but I didn't hide the irritation in my voice. "Anything else you've been hiding from me?"

"It's not like that." Dermot said, that scarlet color coming back to his cheeks.

"Yes it is." Claude said.

Dermot ignored him with a swat of his hand. "Sookie, he gave us no choice."

"I thought you were here because you _had _no choice. No, actually, I thought you were here because you wanted to be here," I cried.

"We do want to be here."

"To spy on me?"

"No, to protect you," he said with a sigh. His words sounded ridiculous and he knew it.

I felt my face burning with embarrassment. Again, I was the asshole. I was the naive child who'd put her trust in the wrong place. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was just as lost as I'd always been. I pushed my mug away and stomped out of the kitchen.

It was Claude who followed me, surprisingly enough.

"Leave me alone," I snapped.

"Hey," he said, throwing his hands up defensively. "I'm the last one who cares about your personal life, you know that."

I turned around and put my hands on my hips. I did know that.

"Dermot is a wank, but he's telling the truth," he went on. "Niall came to us after we moved in. Saying no to him would've been a death sentence. It was either keep tabs on you, or return to Faery and deal with the consequences."

I just stood there, doing some quick thinking. I knew a little something about the fae brand of punishment, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, even Marcus. Well, maybe Marcus. I also tried to mentally tally up everything I'd done since they'd moved in with me, but there honestly wasn't much to be concerned about. Claude seemed to read my mind.

"He hasn't been all that impressed with us."

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You lied to him?"

"No, you're boring."

I smiled a bit, I couldn't help it. Claude had never made a habit of being nice to me, especially after what happened to his sisters. And while this was hardly a heart-warming scene, it was better than nothing.

"This past week has been more exciting than the whole past year," he said.

I scoffed. "Yeah, for me too."

And I realized that being mad at either one of them was useless. The one I was really mad at was my great-grandfather.

"Let's call him," I said suddenly.

"No thanks," Claude said quickly, and Dermot leaped into the room from the kitchen.

"Come on, if he can hear us, then let's see him pop his royal ass right here into the living room."

"Sookie, there are far worse things than serving Niall, trust me when I say this," Dermot said, his voice full of desperation.

"I don't serve anyone," I barked. I stared at my uncle until he finally took a step away from me. "Are you afraid of your own father?"

A flash of anger darkened his face, something I'd never seen on Dermot before. "I know his wraith better than anyone."

"Then you should know exactly why I need to see him. I'm mad as hell and I want answers. Niall!" I called out to the walls, the ceiling. "I know you're listening. Niall! Niall!"

"Here we go," Claude sighed, flopping himself onto the nearest armchair. Dermot just shook his head and sunk onto the landing of the stairway.

"Niall!" I called out again after a minute of silence. Another minute went by and I groaned out loud, hanging my head between my shoulders. "Come on."

Then we felt it. The air vibrated all around us, or maybe it was inside of our bodies that moved. Claude and Dermot both got up without a word and stood on either side of me. They were protecting me, I realized. They knew what was coming - I, on the other hand, was only just beginning to regret what I'd done. We turned to face the front door and watched it gently swing open of its own accord.

There stood Niall, my great-grandfather. He was dressed in flowing blue robes that shimmered in the breeze, cinched around his waist with a long sash. On his feet were a pair of pointy slippers embroidered with silver. His long white hair was hanging loose over his shoulders and down his back. It was the first time I'd ever seen him in his faery regalia - he usually had on a suit and tie. At that moment, he looked more like Professor Dumbledore. Prince of the air faeries, hundreds of years old, and looking a might pissed off.

"Dermot, Claude." He barely laid eyes on them.

They both bowed their heads and replied in unison, "Sir."

Then he looked in my direction, and I understood how much restraint he was using. There was anger in his eyes that make me swallow hard. Still, he spared a smile. "Child, you wish to speak with me?"

I nodded, fighting the urge to curtsey. "Yes, thank you."

"Shall we step outside?" he asked, gesturing toward the door.

"Ah, okay." I followed him outside, glancing back at Dermot and Claude. They both let out a long sigh of relief as the door closed and I saw them run up the stairs through the lace curtain.

Niall was standing at the far end of the porch, overlooking the area where I had so often gardened with Gran and played football with Jason as a child. We stood next to each other for a quiet minute. The fireflies were flickering around and the air smelled of night-blooming jasmine.

"They're afraid of you, you know," I said.

"They respect me, granddaughter," he corrected. "I am their ruler."

"They're your family. And maybe it's hard for you to tell the difference," I said, my words softly spoken yet heavy with intent.

"Perhaps. Do you fear me?"

"No," I replied honestly. "Even though you're upset with me right now. But I know perfectly well what you're capable of."

He seemed okay with this answer. He nodded and just stood there, like he was waiting for the inevitable onslaught of questioning to begin.

"Where's Eric?"

"He's safe."

"That isn't what I asked."

He looked down his long, aquiline nose at me and seemed to consider my words. True, I was being very sassy with him, and true, he was technically my oldest living relative. However, I was not being purposely disrespectful and I think he knew that. I was a woman on a mission, and prince or not, he was in my way.

"He is with his companions."

"In Faery?"

"No," he replied. "Someplace in between. They are paused in time."

"Well, are they alright?" I cried.

"They are aware of each other, but not their surroundings."

I sighed, chewing on my bottom lip. I tried to imagine what sorts of crazy conversations they'd all be having, floating around in a bubble somewhere. Bill and Pam were arguing, no doubt about that. Sorren was planning a daring escape. And Eric would be talking to Freyja. My heart broke a little bit for him as I thought of the strangled words they were probably sharing.

"I've given them a gift, in a way," he said, and I wondered if he could read my thoughts as I could read others. "Time has no meaning in the dimension they're in. They are sharing a thousand years of stories and experience."

"That wasn't their choice," I reminded him. "They might not even like each other."

"You didn't exactly give them a choice either," he said with a slight smirk.

"Well, all the same, " I murmured. Changing the subject, I asked, "What about Marcus?"

"Paused as well," he replied. "He will be coming after you, soon."

A chill ran down my spine. "I know."

"I cannot change his purpose, Sookie." he said and his voice was resolute. "Marcus is a very powerful vampire. He has friends that I do not wish to make enemies of, not now."

I looked at him like he was speaking Spanish. "Then why did you mess with my wish?"

"I wanted to give you a chance to reconsider your options."

I blinked. "My _options?_"

He nodded.

"You had no right!" I burst out, and for the first time, I seemed to have surprised him. "It was my wish, Gran gave it to me."

"Your grandmother did not understand the implications -"

"She understood that Fintan loved her and she loved me. That's it, end of subject." Crossing my arms, I added, "Adele Stackhouse was no fool. She knew perfectly well what she was doing when she gave it to me."

He turned away from me, adjusting his robes and clearing his throat. I was mad, but seeing him even the slightest bit upset made me feel totally guilty, just like when I used to argue with Gran. I put my hand on his arm and I instantly felt his love for me jolt through my body. He patted my hand, like a real granddaddy would've, and I let out a long sigh.

"Niall," I said, "I have always appreciated everything you've done for me, and how you've protected me over the years. Like it or not, you're some of the only family I've got left and I want you to be part of my life. But you've gotta let me make my own decisions, bad or good."

He shook his head and looked a bit sad. "You have so much potential inside of you, yet you're ashamed of your power. These other creatures continue to take advantage of it."

"I'm not ashamed, not anymore. I've seen the good I can do," I said, and I thought of how I'd healed Greta, and of the auras that had floated before my eyes. Dermot had helped me harness my power though. I wouldn't have been able to it on my own. "But you're right, I _can_ feel it inside of me. I just don't know what to do with it."

"It seems then that you need a teacher."

"It would seem so." Was he offering?

"It's unfortunate that Claudine isn't here to guide you any longer."

My shoulders dropped. "Yes, it is."

For one second, I'd felt a huge surge of hope, like a sixteen year old looking out in the driveway on her birthday. It was stupid to even think that he'd do it himself. He was a prince, he had a war and all his prince stuff to deal with. I knew that from the beginning with him. He wasn't the type of great-grandfather you'd go visit after church and do the crossword section with. Yet just being with him made me crave that sort of interaction, for the same reason I couldn't stay mad at Claude and Dermot. Yes, there was a little faery mojo happening, but it had more to do with just wanting to be part of something, to belong with someone.

"I suppose I could teach you, on occasion, when it is safe for me to do so."

I smiled like Pollyanna. "Really?"

He turned to me, quickly adding, "I have no way of knowing when I'd be able to come, Dermot will have to make do in my stead."

"Oh, yes, of course. Thank you so much." I hugged him tightly, getting wrapped up in the silken softness of his robes and the smell of a crisp winter breeze. And he hugged me back. He put his arms around me and stroked my hair and I felt like I was being hugged by Santa Claus. But the moment ended quickly. He stepped back, smoothing his robes out and tugging a bit on his sash.

"Now, about the vampire."

"I love him."

He quickly smiled, acknowledging it like he knew it was nothing he could help. "I know. He is a good man, but a vampire none the less. There will be consequences as long as you chose to keep him in your life."

"I know that, trust me. Now, can you put my wish back?"

He became frustrated. "Yes, but Sookie, I want you think about something first. Think about the women in your family. They made noble choices for love, but in the end, they all met their deaths just the same."

So I thought about it. I thought of my mother, my cousin Hadley, and Claudine. Most especially, of Gran. Then I thought about Eric, and just how much I was willing to do for him. I smiled and replied, "There's no other way I'd rather give up my own life than for someone I love."

He hesitated for a moment and closed his eyes. Letting out a long sigh, he said, "Very well, the wish is restored."

"Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for," he said. "You were right, it was your wish all along. Even as Fintan gifted it to Adele, it was always to be yours."

Well, that was something to think about.

"No," I said after a beat. "I mean, thank you for being concerned about me."

He nodded, and gave me another one of his tiny smiles. "Of course."

Faery sharing time was clearly over.

"I'll be seeing you soon then?" I said, more as a question than anything else.

"Soon enough, granddaughter. Some self-defense lessons may be in order."

I chuckled, thinking of my last experience with that sort of lesson. Before I could explain, he vanished before my eyes. I saw a glimpse of him as he looked over his shoulder from the edge of the side yard. Another pop and he was gone, headed to the portal hidden in the woods.

_Pop...pop._

"Sookie."

I heard the voice, and every other sound around me stopped. Silence, except for the thump of my heart beating inside my ears. I looked down. Eric was standing at the bottom of the porch steps.

I really can't list all of the things I felt exactly at that moment.

I jumped into his arms and he caught me like I'd thrown him a sweater. His body didn't waiver, his chest was solid and arms felt like vices around my back. "You're healed," I whispered, my face buried against his neck.

"Niall helped," he breathed into my ear.

I looked up and tears fell onto my cheeks. I held his beautiful face between my hands and erupted with giddy laughter. I was amazed as I looked into his eyes and felt like my life had been returned to me. "My God, Eric."

My mind raced, and I was dizzy with emotion._ Oh, my God, you almost died. I almost died again too. My God, you built me a house. You have a daughter. Oh, my dear God..._ I loved this man so much that I was willing to stop time and change reality. I could've changed everyone's lives forever, and I did it without any remorse at all.

But there was no time to think, not when my heart pounded and I wanted to just feel him next to me. His lips crashed onto mine and I moaned against his mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged my legs against his sides, clinging to him and feeling his muscles flex against my skin.

"_Jag älskar dig_," he muttered between biting my lip and hungrily kissing my neck.

"I love you too." My hands laced into his hair. It was still shortened and it felt foreign in between my fingers. I could freely touch the delicate skin behind his ears, softly rubbing it with my thumbs. He leaned his head back and sighed those words I'd been waiting to hear. _My lover..._

I heard a noise behind us, a rock on the driveway. Startled, I flicked my head up and saw Freyja standing there with a disinterested gaze painted all over her face.

"Eric," I hissed, slinking down his frame and planting my feet on a wooden step. Had she been standing there the whole time? Ewww.

"It's fine," he assured me. "Freyja and I have had some time to talk." He leaned over and said in a softer tone, "We'll discuss what you did later."

_What I did? _Boy, did he have a way of changing the mood real quick.

Freyja was staring at me, and she wasn't smiling. There was something about the way she was looking at me that made me feel instantly defensive. Oh, and plus the fact that she was seriously creeping me out. She was beautiful, but in an unnatural way. She was a thousand year old woman staring out at me through the eyes of a child. She faintly glowed in the moonlight and her mind was a dark void to me.

"You mean when I saved your ass?" I asked, my voice suddenly flat.

Freyja scoffed. "Get over yourself. We've got bigger problems to deal with."

I glared at her like I was ten, and snapped, "I know Marcus is coming, Niall told me."

"Yeah, well he won't be alone."

I slowly looked to Eric. Concern was etched on his features and he softly gripped my arms, as if he was bracing me for a blow.

"Jesus, Eric. Just spill it."

He hesitated for a long moment, before he said, "Marcus is Victor's maker."

My mouth fell open. I stared at him as my brain tried to wrap around that sentence. Flashes of the past few years burst into my mind - Victor attacking me on my own front porch, his vampire henchmen trying to kill Pam and I, Eric having to kiss major political ass. I felt an anger course through me that, up until that second, had been reserved only for the most despicable people in my life. The man that killed my Gran. The faeries that tortured me. Now, Victor Madden and his goddamned maker.

"I'll kill them both," I snarled, squeezing my hands into fists.

Eric nodded, and a wily smile curled up on one side of his mouth. "Get in line."

_**Review away! Hit that button and give Momma some sugar!**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: Hope you guys had a good holiday. I've been über busy writing my novel, got five chapters done. (That's a lot for me, being a procrastinating soccer-mom type.) I'm super psyched and hope that all of you check it out once my website is up and running.**_

_**Only a few more chapters to go. This thing is turning into an epic, I know, but the characters are so much fun to play with. After so many books and episodes, I really feel like I know them. Not much action in this chapter, but I wanted to establish a relationship between Sookie and Freyja before the final battle scene.**_

**Chapter Sixteen**

The rest of the gang popped up a few minutes later.

Once we'd all synchronized our watches and gassed up the Mystery Machine, we headed our separate ways for a while. Alcide had kindly offered, and was not at all forced, to take in Greta and Henrik while we waited for Dr. Ludwig's prognosis. Greta was still pretty messed up when they arrived, but Dr. Ludwig had seen me through some dark times and I had complete faith in her healing abilities. That's to say nothing of her bedside manner. Greta and the tiny doctor would get along famously.

Pam and Sorren went off to Shreveport in my car. They needed to check on Fangtasia and grab as many weapons as they could stuff in my trunk. They also planned on doing some recon on Victor's whereabouts. He'd been hanging around Shreveport more often over the past few months, rather than his home base of New Orleans, and that should have been a red flag to begin with. Eric thought he'd just been gloating, being a power-hunger bastard and all, but now we realized that he'd had other intentions from the beginning. I wondered if Philip DeCastro knew about his lieutenant's bloodlines. I stored that little tidbit away for a future visit with the kindly king of Nevada/Louisiana.

Bill went home and did his computer geek thing. He checked every database he could hack his way into, finding out anything he could about Marcus. Flights out of the Kalmar area, both commercial and private. Customs checkpoints, passport scans with all known aliases. Reservations at all of the local vampire-friendly hotels. Nothing came up. The longer we waited, the more likely we thought that Marcus was capable of going completely off radar, even under the watchful eyes of Bill Compton.

And then there was Freyja.

Eric assured us that she was on our side, but I didn't trust her further than I could throw her. Granted, she was very small and I might actually be able to throw her, but I still didn't trust her. I'd seen supes change sides more times than I could count. As far as I was concerned, she was behind enemy lines until proven otherwise. I just couldn't let Eric know that.

The way he looked at her made my heart sigh. For him, it was like watching her first steps, high school graduation, and getting married all at the same time. He had so much emotion running through him, he didn't know what to do with himself. He'd assumed the responsibility of watching over us, wouldn't let anyone else even get close to us. Yet when he found himself stumbling over his words and struggling to make conversation, he decided that the front porch was as good a look-out point as any. So I took over, just like a good step mamma should do.

It was a good thing she was real tall for her age and that I happened to be on the shorter side. My smallest clothes, the ones I saved in the back of my bottom drawer for when I lost those extra ten pounds, sort of fit her. They actually hung from her little body, but they would do the job until Dermot got back from Wal-Mart. Clearly unhappy in her outfit of pink terrycloth capris and a Little Miss Sunshine belly shirt, she glared at her reflection in my bedroom mirror. I looked away and pretended to make the bed so she wouldn't see me silently giggling.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked, holding out the matching pink sweatshirt to the pants.

"Make do," I replied matter-of-factly. "Sorry it's not couture like you're used to, but Dermot will be back with something in your size soon." When I turned back around, I saw that the sweatshirt was hanging over her hands and half-way down her thighs. She caught my gaze in the mirror and I smiled like a nut job at her.

"This is unnecessary."

"What?"

"You, and this," she said, gesturing to the mirror, "And all the smiling."

"Oh, I'm always like this," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. "You know, crazy Sookie. Besides, you're a guest. Well, you're more than that. You know that your father and I -"

"Don't call him that," she snapped.

"I didn't mean to offend you," I uttered quickly.

"No offense taken," she said, rolling the cuffs of the sweatshirt a few times. "My father died a thousand years ago, I've had time to adjust."

The sarcasm in her voice burned me, but I did my best to ignore it. I picked up my angel afghan from the bed and refolded it for the third time. "The man out on that porch might say differently."

"He can say whatever he wants. I call him Eric."

"Fine." I threw the afghan down with a plop. I took a breath and started again. "Anyway, Eric and I are together, which I'm sure you're well aware of." I waited for a response, but just got a blank stare reflected in the mirror. "So, that means that you are part of my family now, like it or not, and around here that comes with obligation."

"I can take care of myself," she said. "You underestimate me, like so many others."

"No," I said, stepping between the mirror and her reflection. "You can bet your bottom dollar that I'm the one person around here that will never underestimate you."

I stared right into her eyes, just in case she felt like questioning the fact that I can't be glamoured. She shifted under my gaze, just slightly, and I couldn't help but smile. She probably wanted to break me in two. I was off the menu, for now.

"Just as long as we understand each other," she said finally.

"Oh, we're clear as glass," I said. "Eric loves you. Now, neither one of you may have come to grips with the situation, and I get that. But it is what it is - he loves you because you're his daughter. It doesn't matter if you're both a thousand years old and it doesn't matter if we don't like each other. I love Eric and I would obviously do anything for him, so if that means playing hostess while we wait for your vamp daddy to show up and try to kill us all, then that's what I'm gonna do. And I'm gonna do it with a smile on my face." I picked up a pile of extra clothes and blankets and shoved it into her arms. Walking toward the door, I said over my shoulder, "Eric is waiting for us."

When I didn't hear her following me, I looked around and saw her standing there, staring down at her tiny feet. Her toenails were painted a delicate cream color. Her face was cast down and she was looking very much like a lonely little girl.

She sighed impatiently, like she was annoyed with her own emotions. "I don't know what to say to him. I've never...had a father."

I thought about it for a moment before I answered. "He wants to know you, that's all. He doesn't expect anything from you. Just be yourself."

She shook her head. "That's the last thing I should do."

"And why's that?"

"I don't know who to be."

I chewed my lip and nodded thoughtfully. It was yet to be determined whose side of the fence she was riding on, but I couldn't help feeling that if she was even willing to admit that, then she was probably riding for us. "...Marcus?" I asked.

"Marcus used me just like he uses everyone else," she replied quickly. "I have no disillusions of our relationship. He told me from the day I was turned that I served a purpose, nothing more."

"Oh."

She shrugged, and I could see her discomfort. "I think he cared a bit when I was a child, but he would just bring me gifts and then be off again, for months or years at a time. Sergius taught me how to hunt, and I had tutors until I was old enough to take care of myself. It was only recently that he took even a remote interest in me."

"That's terrible." I knew better than anybody what it was like to have a sucky childhood. I thought of Gran, who'd helped me through some dark times. How different would Freyja's life have been if she'd had someone to love her, even just a little bit? I couldn't even imagine what my life would've turned out like without Gran's special signature of tough southern love.

"Terrible? It was all I knew," she said. "I forgot my mother's face after a few decades. I woke up one night and just forgot my brother's name. Can you imagine that? My own twin."

"Gunnar," I said softly. The name was burned into my memory, just as everything was from that night.

Her eyes widened a bit with recognition and she smiled. "Gunnar," she repeated in a small voice. "Gunnar, and my mother was Svana." Then her faraway gaze pivoted to my direction and was replaced with a curious stare. "You look a bit like her actually."

"So I've been told."

She looked closely at my face, my hands. "How do you know all this?"

"Eric told me about you," I replied simply. "How he looked for you."

"_Looked for me_?"

"Yeah."

She scoffed. "Well, he didn't look very hard because I never went anywhere. I'm surprised he even remembered."

"Freyja, he's been searching for you for over seven hundred years," I admonished. "The first thing he did when Ocella released him was go back to look for you."

She stared at me for a moment, then shook her head. "Marcus told me that Eric never wanted to see me."

"Well, of course he would say that," I sighed, and by this point, I actually wanted to hug her but I kept that little impulse under wraps. "Marcus needed you to hate Eric, or how else could he have possibly pulled all this off?"

She didn't seem to hear me. "He told me that we would stay in Sweden, just in case Eric changed his mind and wanted to come for me. But he never came."

"Eric was there every chance he got. He has all kinds of stuff up in that hotel in Kalmar," I said. "I saw all of it - maps, journals, photographs. Before he left here last week, he told me that he needed to try to find you one last time. I think he knew something was on the horizon, like he felt it coming."

She looked at me but she was looking past me, her face devoid of all emotion. She was shocked, I could see that plain as her nose. I knew she was telling the truth in that instant. I knew what she was feeling was real, not just made up to play along with the game anymore. She really though that her father had willingly abandoned her. After feeling a thousand years of resentment and anger, what was next?

"Eric's not goin' anywhere," I said in a soothing, reassuring voice. "And neither am I. When this is all said and done, you two will be able to figure something out. He's not gonna let anything happen to you, trust me. If there's one thing you can count on , it's Eric's loyalty."

"But you must realize, Marcus is my maker."

"You mean, you have to do what he tells you to."

She nodded. "Yes. I don't have a choice."

"Eric understands all of that."

"But you don't trust me," she said.

My answer was immediate. "No, not yet. You haven't earned my trust."

She looked away from me and gingerly placed the bundle of clothes on top of my dresser, trying to hide her disappointment. I closed my eyes for just a moment. God help me, I was so tired. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept, let alone not being woken up by those crazy dreams or tormented by Eric's ghostly call. It wasn't like me to say mean things, especially to someone who looked like an in-crisis adolescent.

"I know that's not really fair," I conceded after a long, uncomfortable moment. "But we'll figure it out somehow."

"Fair?" she asked. "That hardly matters now."

"Of course it does. Your feelings matter very much."

"That's not it." She looked at me and I saw a long bloody tear slowly slid over her porcelain cheekbone. "You will never trust me. I am never going to be your friend."

My eyebrows creased. "I wanna try."

"No!" Her words exploded between us and I took a step back out of sheer instinct. "You don't get it! I can't control anything I do. I had no choice, he made me do it."

I swallowed, trying to keep a nervous quake out of my voice. "Made you do what?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head a bit. "It seemed right," she whispered. "I was so mad at him for leaving me with Marcus for all those years."

"Freyja, what did you do?"

Another tear fell and dripped onto the wooden floor next to her bare foot. "I was the one that summoned you, not Eric."

I blinked. "...What?"

"Eric didn't call you out. I drained him every night and then called you myself."

If it had been a day or two earlier, or if I hadn't already been emotionally beat and left out to dry, I might have reacted differently to that sort of news. But my brain just couldn't take another round. "I don't know what to do with that information right now," I said flatly. Then, out of sheer curiosity, I asked, "How is that even possible?"

"You have a blood bond, we share a blood line," she said with a guilty shrug. "It just worked."

"Huh. I guess that's why Pam couldn't hear it," I mumbled.

Another shrug. She didn't give a rat's derriere about Pam.

"Does Eric know?" I asked. She quickly shook her head and I said, "Okay. Okay, good. Today isn't the day for that sort of news. We'll wait until Marcus gets here and see how this whole thing plays out -"

"You mean we'll wait until I decide whose side I'm on?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean," I replied quickly, my patience suddenly drained. "If you're gonna turn your back on us, then there's no point in breaking his heart all over again. But if we all make it through this and you're still standing by his side, then you've got some explaining to do."

She nodded. "That's reasonable."

"Well, lucky for you, because I'm not feeling very reasonable right now," I said.

I heard the sounds of footsteps and rustling bags downstairs and just walked away from her. Dermot was back and I didn't care if she followed me or not. I went down to the kitchen and saw Claude carefully examining a pile of colorful clothes that had been dumped onto the table.

Dermot frowned at me. "Next time, you're doing the shopping."

"There probably won't be a next time," I grumbled, absently picking through the selection. He'd done okay, for a male, and for a faery.

"That's probably a good thing," Claude sighed, holding up a magenta tee shirt emblazed with glittery silver polka dots. "This is hideous. I weep for the future of this country if this is the sort of thing they dress their children in."

"You try finding something fashion forward at Wal-Mart," I said defensively. My own wardrobe was filled with lots of items I'd gotten at Wal-Mart, although I had to admit that I'd been doing a lot more shopping at the mall in Shreveport since my bank account had become full of Eric's I'm-a-terrible-boyfriend-please-buy-stuff-to-make-you-look-pretty money.

Claude picked up a pair of grey skinny jeans and I saw a black tee shirt under it. One glance and I immediately recognized the brooding couple on the front of it. I held it up and arched my eyebrows up to the ceiling. "Really, Dermot? A Twilight tee shirt?"

He smiled. "I thought it would be ironic."

"Ironic is not the word for it," Claude said, grabbing the shirt from me and holding it up to my chest. "Sad and misguided, maybe. And what does this guy use in his hair? I've got more hair than he does."

I laughed at them, and then we were all laughing. In the face of uncertain danger, we cracked up over a tee shirt. Claude sucked his cheeks in and held his long hair up over his head to form a poof, and Dermot and I fell on top of each other. It was unlike Claude to be so jovial, but sarcasm was right up his alley.

"Alright, shhh," I whispered as our giggles died down, throwing the shirt in Claude's face. "They'll hear us making fun. Dermot, did you get the True Blood?"

Dermot grabbed another bag from the floor put it onto the table with a clink. Three six packs of O negative. Eric wouldn't go for that at all, but maybe Freyja wasn't as picky over her blood types. "That was more embarrassing to buy than the clothes," he mumbled.

"Right, 'cause everyone was judging you?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "Bad faery."

Claude chuckled and Dermot just scowled at me. I shoved one of the cartons at Dermot with a smile and nodded toward the fridge. It was then that I heard a creak on the floor boards behind me. Freyja was standing there, watching us. The other two quickly busied themselves, emptying the other shopping bags and putting away the various groceries and cat food. Which left me, holding the fake blood.

"Is that for me?" she asked incredulously.

"I thought you could try it," I said. "I wasn't sure what brand you liked, but True Blood is pretty popular around here."

She warily eyed the cardboard encased bottles. "I've never had synthetic."

"Oh," I said. Spoiled was the first word that came to mind. "Well, no time like the present. You must be awfully hungry by now."

She eyed Claude over my shoulder, who was bending into the fridge, his admittedly lovely ass pointed toward us in all its toned glory. "Famished," she sighed.

"Don't even think about it," I hissed, and her eyes snapped back to me. I knew my cousin must've smelled good to her, being that she was staring at him like he was a walking Happy Meal, but I had to draw a line somewhere.

I hustled over to the microwave and popped a bottle in for fifteen seconds. She didn't seem to actually want it, so I shoved it into her hand with a smile. Cautiously lifting it up, she took a sniff and quickly scrunched her nose up, disgusted.

"Bottoms up," I sang with a toothy grin.

She glowered at me as she tipped back the bottle and swallowed down a large swig. Cringing like she was in pain, she gulped hard and let out a loud gasp. "Eeeewww. That's revolting!"

I shrugged innocently. "Yeah, well, it's fake blood. How tasty could it be?"

"You can't possibly expect me to drink this."

"Yes, I can," I said. "Unless you can find a willing donor, that's how vamps around here survive without ending up in jail."

"And Eric drinks this?"

My smile quickly faded and I looked away with a sigh. I tried not to think too much about what or who Eric drank when I wasn't around, because he certainly wasn't drinking True Blood.

"Only when I have to."

Eric stood in the doorway of the kitchen, not far from Freyja. We shared a glance, a fleeting smile. Just being in the same room with him again was a tiny little thrill. We hadn't be able to do more than share that brief kiss on the front porch and the desire to touch him was actually driving me batty. I could tell from the smoking vibes Eric was sending my way that the feeling was mutual. I couldn't help it. Seeing him with the short hair was still a shock, like I was suddenly in love with Eric's sexy doppelganger.

He reached out and took the bottle from Freyja, checking the label and frowning a bit. "Sookie is right, of course. You'll have to sustain yourself on synthetic when fresh is unavailable."

"I'm not drinking that, it tastes like dirty _kronor._"

Eric smiled and placed the bottle onto the table. "You're right, it does."

"Eric, she's gotta drink something," I insisted. "And there's no way you're taking her to Fangtasia, not with Victor running around God knows where."

He turned his gaze and challenged me with nothing but a flash in his eyes. "Are you volunteering?"

"No." I was no longer threatened by his Bela Lugosi eyes.

"Well then, we need to find some real blood for her, for both of us. Synthetic will not uphold during a battle, and I can't take anymore from you so soon." In a quieter voice, he added, "You know this, Sookie."

"Yes, I know that, Eric," I sighed back, knowing full well that everyone had heard what he'd said anyway. "But unless you plan on glamouring one of my neighbors or calling for take-out, I'm out of ideas."

Then Claude stepped in between us. "I may have a solution."

I gasped and opened my mouth to protest, but he held his hand up. "No, not that. I have a client or two at the club who might be willing to...help the cause."

I noticed Dermot quickly turn his eyes and stare suspiciously at Claude, yet he said nothing. "Whadya mean?" I asked.

"Everyone knows who you are, cousin. Who you're with." He shrugged, as if it were nothing. "Offers have been made."

"Fae?" Freyja asked, excitement suddenly building in her voice.

"Don't get your hopes up, none of them look like me," he said, flipping his glossy hair out of his eyes. "There's some business I need to take care of before it gets too late. If you promise to keep your fangs to yourself, you can come along."

"Why are you being nice to me?" she asked warily.

"Yeah," I said immediately. Claude was an opportunist, and that was putting it nicely. Good Samaritan was not on his resume. I looked back to Dermot again, but he seemed as confused as the rest of us.

"Just go with it," Claude grumbled, picking up the skinny jeans and a black velour hoodie. He tossed them in Freyja's direction and walked past all of us. Grabbing his keys from the bowl in the foyer, he called out, "I'll be in the car."

There was a brisk knock on the door just as Claude swung it open. Bill stood there, having changed out of his combat gear and back into his go-to khakis and Henley. Upon seeing Claude, who must've smelled like a filet mignon, Bill stiffened in the doorway. The fae and vamps in my life had learned to coexist, begrudgingly.

Claude breezed past him, calling out a familiar greeting. "Vampire Bill."

"Claude," he nodded.

"Come on in, Bill," I heaved wearily. It was starting to look like I would never get a free moment with Eric. The two of us would either start fighting again, or I'd be hosting every supe within a five mile radius right there in my kitchen before the end of the night.

Bill scanned the unlikely gathering before him and smiled curtly. Looking to Eric, he asked, "May I speak freely?"

In unison, we all looked to Freyja. We must've seemed like a bizarre dysfunctional family to an outsider. She was no exception. She rolled her eyes and walked away, stomping up every single step. She would still be able to hear what we said, of course, but didn't bother hiding the fact that she was still feeling resentful over our mistrust. The bathroom door slammed shut and Bill launched right into it.

"Marcus is on his way. He'll be in New Orleans in ten hours."

I felt like the Tin Man, my heart thumped so loudly in my chest. Just the mention of his name had me scuttling closer to Eric's side. He wrapped his steely arm around my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze. It was a very girly thing to do, and I'm normally not proud of my damsel moments. Yet I snuggled into in his chest none the less.

"How do we know this?" Eric asked.

"Pam and Sorren coerced it out of Heidi," Bill replied. "She said that Victor is making all types of arrangements. They'll be staying at Victors complex through the day tomorrow and -"

"And then showing up here as soon as the sun goes down," I interjected. "Is he a flyer?"

"Yes, but Victor and Sergius are not," Eric said. "They'll have to travel by car."

"Heidi knows too much," I said after a second of thought. Something about this didn't mesh.

"I agree," Bill nodded.

"Victor would never have told Heidi that sort of information if he didn't already assume we'd find out," Eric said.

"So either it's a complete lie..." Bill started.

"Or Marcus wanted us to know he's coming," I said. "He's flaunting it in our faces, like he's daring us to hang around or something."

"He wants us be prepared." Eric's voice was flat. He wandered away and began to slowly pace up and down the hallway runner. We all fell in behind him as he said, "You denied him of the fight he was ready for. You've dealt a strong blow to his ego, Sookie."

I frowned, slapping my hands onto my hips. "I wasn't really thinking of it that way."

"It doesn't matter," Bill said. "His honor has been besmirched."

I looked to Eric, and all he did was frown. Shaking my head, I exclaimed, "You'd all be dead right now. You're aware of that, right?"

Dermot was in front of me then. He took my hands into his and smiled kindly, patiently. "What's done is done, niece. Let it go and don't think on it again. You have much ahead of you right now."

"Dermot," I sighed, "I really appreciate everything you've done for me the past few days, but I need to recharge my batteries right now, okay? Save the pep talk for later."

"Not later. Now, Sookie."

My eyebrows arched, curious despite my bitter mood and physical exhaustion. Dermot was certainly acting a bit odd, now that I looked at him and thought about it.

"Niall left me with instructions. I'm to teach you how to fight like a fae."

Bill smirked, and looked at Eric with a get-a-load-of-this-guy grin. "Fight like a fae?"

Dermott smiled at me again, but this time it was a swaggering grin. It could have been my brother looking at me instead. He cupped his hands together and braced them against his chest, facing out. A white light began to swirl around his fingers and after a few seconds, it gathered into a softball sized mass. He then forced his hands forward and the ball ignited into a flowing bunch of blue and yellow sparks. It zinged past me and hit Bill in the shoulder, knocking him over onto his ass with a loud thump.

My jaw dropped. Eric and I both looked at Bill, who began to move and groan after a few seconds. We turned our eyes back to Dermott, who stood there looking as innocent as a choir boy. Eric let out a loud chuckle, fraternally smacking Dermott on the shoulder.

"Let's start with power orbs, shall we?"

_**Review, review! Hit that button and give Momma some sugar! I'd also love some ideas for my next fan fic, if you have any you'd like to share. Right now I'm thinking of Vampire Diaries or Castle. Whadya think?**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N: Warning - lemons ahead! Enough said. I couldn't help it, you guys! I blushed a little even writing it. ;) Consider it a Christmas gift.**_

**Chapter Seventeen**

We had eighteen hours.

In that time, I had to learn everything I needed to know to keep myself alive against an ancient vampire who wanted to drain me like a juice box. I also had to eat and sleep, but as each day went on, I found myself becoming immune to such simple human needs. Give me a piece of raisin toast and a cat nap and I was good to go.

Standing in my back yard under the illumination of the flood lights, Dermot and I faced off. I had changed into a pair of sweats and a long sleeve tee shirt and then put my hair up high on top of my head. This was as close to work-out gear as I got. Eric stood on the back steps with his arms crossed over his chest, out of the way but still able to watch us like a bird of prey. He'd found some clothes he left in a closet a while ago and looked hot as Hades in one of those stretchy tee shirts that let his biceps and pecs bulge in all the right places.

I wanted to climb him.

But no, I had to concentrate. What was wrong with me? I looked away, but only after he threw me a quick wink and made my insides flutter.

The way Dermot explained it was that Niall had given him a gift. One second he was walking up and down the aisles of the twenty-four hour Wal-Mart, the next he was overwhelmed with warmth and waves of dizziness. He opened his eyes and just knew it was there, and he knew that Niall had bestowed it on him for one reason alone - to keep me safe.

There was something different about Dermot, I had to admit. There was a fire in his eyes that I'd never seen before. Dermot had always just muddled through things, since the day I met him. Now though, he was sure of himself, almost cocky. Closer to Claude than the uncle I'd come to know and love. Maybe that was what fae magic did to a person. It would certainly explain my great-grandfather's mightier-than-thou attitude.

I found myself wondering if I was okay with that, as this magic was literally at my fingertips.

"Am I going to feel different?" I asked.

He looked thoughtful. Interesting question, apparently. "How did you feel after you healed Greta?" he asked.

"Good," I replied immediately. "Proud of myself, I guess."

"...And?"

I hesitated. It was always tough to be honest when you were a little embarrassed about your answer. "Powerful," I finally said.

He nodded. "Yes. This power is already within you. You must learn how to harness it."

"How do you feel?" No sir, still not convinced.

Then he smiled, and I've never seen my uncle smile like that. "I feel alive, Sookie. For the first time in my life, I feel complete."

"Will it last?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But if it lasts long enough to get us through this, then that's good enough for me."

If I had time to get sentimental at that particular moment, I would've. Dermot made me feel loved, like I wasn't so alone in this world anymore. I actually did have a family, although it took me a while to realize it. Sure, we were all a bunch of freaks - a half were panther, two faeries, and a telepathic blonde married to a vampire - but, I had the distinction of being the ringleader. I laughed a little when I felt my eyes misting up.

He ignored my tears, probably to preserve my dignity. "Now then, this is a defense tool, nothing more. A shock of your power at full strength will knock a human out for several hours, but it will merely stun a vampire. It'll give you enough time to grab a weapon or run like hell."

"Okay."

"Are you ready?"

I shrugged, wiping my sweaty palms on the thighs of my pants. "As I'll ever be."

He held his hands out to me. "Close your eyes."

I quickly looked over to Eric and saw him nod encouragingly. Of course I trusted my uncle, but trusting Niall was always kind of up in the air. It was a mixed bag with him. Eric and Niall seemed to share a kind of secret trust. It seemed like there was a history there, but nothing that I was privy to. I knew that Niall wouldn't go out of his way for someone unless they were deemed worthy, especially if that person was a vampire. And yet there Eric was, restored to his former glory by some bonafide fae magic, trusting in a power that he didn't understand any better than I did. Apparently.

So I closed my eyes.

Dermot took my hands and firmly clasped them. "Clear your mind. Forget everything that lies behind us and ahead of us. Breathe in...and out. There is only the sound of my voice. Breathe in...and out."

I swallowed hard. This was gonna be like meditating, and I'd never been able to do that. Amelia had tried to show me a bunch of times, but all I kept doing was catching her brain waves and I'd never been able to relax enough to do it. I just wasn't able to shut off my brain like other people could.

"Sookie, relax," Dermot soothed.

My eyes stayed closed, but my voice was mangled up with nerves. "I can't," I sighed impatiently. "My shields will go down and I'll be able to hear everyone."

"You'll be with vampires though."

It certainly was not the time to admit that I got occasional flashes from vampires. I desperately wanted to tell them, to unburden myself of that little tidbit of crazy, but I couldn't do it with Dermot there. I knew Eric would not take it well, and he would be even more upset if I forced him to deal with such a private subject in front of my uncle. Nope, couldn't open that can of worms all over the back yard.

"You can do this," Dermot said.

I nodded and forced my eyes shut even tighter. I breathed in and out loudly, pretending to concentrate, but what I was actually wondering was why Niall hadn't just zapped me instead of Dermot. Wouldn't this whole thing be a heck of a lot easier if it was me that just opened her eyes and knew how to shoot energy out of her palms?

I felt hands on my shoulders and I realized Eric was standing behind me. I hadn't even noticed him move. Our bond had lost some of its strength, though I was hardly surprised after what had happened over the past few days. He gently squeezed my shoulders, massaging the tension out of my muscles. He rubbed my neck and I felt it throughout my frame. A small thread of absolute peace entered my body and worked its way down to my toes. I let out a long, shaky sigh and leaned back into his chest.

"Let go, Sookie," Eric whispered in my ear. "You are in control."

I steadied my breathing. In...and out. In...and out.

"It is your will, no one else's."

I stood up straight. In...and out.

"You are a warrior, a survivor."

I spread my feet shoulder's width apart, balling my hands into fists. In..and out.

"You will endure this, just like everything else."

His breath flickered on my skin like a cool breeze. In...and out.

"You are in control."

In...and out.

"I'm ready," I said.

Eric released me and took a few steps back. He was right behind me, just in case. The sound of his words, the feel of his body against mine, was enough to put me at ease. I felt pliable, adaptable. It was probably the closest I'd ever be to getting glamoured. Maybe I wasn't immune to his charms after all.

"Alright," Dermot said, his voice soft and comforting. "Remember how we healed the werewolf. We used energy from our auras and we willed it to flow into her body."

"I remember."

"To heal, we take energy from our own bodies. To generate an orb, you must draw energy from around you, instead of from within you. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Imagine that the world around you is filled with water, in all different forms," he said. "See the water like drops flowing to your hands. Draw the water to you like you're a magnet. Pull every drop of moisture you feel into your hands - from the grass, the trees, the very air you breathe."

I didn't dare open my eyes, but my hands lifted of their own accord. I felt a chilly wave rush over my fingers. They tingled like I'd just dipped them in ice water.

"Let the energy flow through you, gathering your strength and will. This is your power now, the earth has given it to you."

My whole body felt icy now, like I had morning frost covering my skin. Like I'd just drunk from a mountain stream. I imagined my breath would be white and smoky as I blew it out.

Dermot said, "Open your eyes."

I looked down and saw the same kind of swirly mist flowing around my hands that I'd seen Dermot throw at Bill. It was silver and blue and it fizzled like Pop Rocks. I slowly moved my hands back and forth and the energy followed. The longer I stared in complete wonder, the bigger it got. I started to feel a slight sting on my skin, like the tail end of pins and needles.

"What do I do now?" I asked.

"You must release it," he replied simply.

I waited a moment, then raised my eyebrows like I was waiting for something more. "And how might I do that?"

"I think it is different for everyone."

"You think?"

"It was my first orb, Sookie," he defended. "Claudine knew how to do it, but her powers always looked effortless. It seemed to happen almost on its own. I wanted it to hit Bill. So I aimed for him and then let it go."

"Okaaaay."

"Just do what comes naturally."

"Dermot, it is not natural for me to be throwing balls of water power whatever-you-call-it," I sassed. Even as I said the words, I could feel the energy fade and sputter away. I looked down and saw that my hands were dripping with water, as were my shoes and the grass all around me. "Crap," I frowned.

"Try again," he said.

So I did. I felt a swell of encouragement from the general area behind me and took a deep breath. I gathered the energy to my body just as I'd done before, only this time I watched as the particles collected around my hands. I let it build until I could feel the heft of it between my fingers, then I flung my hands forward. The ball fell to my feet in a soppy pile resembling a melted snow cone.

Dermot looked puzzled. Maybe he'd just assumed I'd be a whiz at this. "What are you aiming at?" he asked.

"Over there," I said, pointing a wet finger to a lawn chair next to the petunia patch.

Dermot shook his head. "Not good enough. You have to direct your energy _into_ something. You have to want to hit something."

Eric stepped out from behind me and stood next to us. "Hit me."

Now, I'd lost count of the number of times I'd wanted to slug Eric Northman over the years, but him volunteering just wasn't the same thing. "Don't be ridiculous," I sighed.

"You have to hit something, hit me. I'm not afraid of a little faery magic." Then he smiled, just a bit.

Instead of going on about how he'd just been healed and how I didn't want to hurt him, I simply rolled my eyes. He was trying to goad me into it, but I wasn't going to let him think he could control my actions so easily. "It's not gonna work, Eric."

"Oh, I think it will."

"You're not gonna outsmart me." Smug SOB.

But he kept pushing, which he's real good at. He backed up a few yards and threw out his arms. "I'm not trying to outsmart you, lover. I'm a very big target. It'll be easier for you this way." Then he motioned me forward with two fingers. "Give me your best shot, _liten flicka."_

My eyebrow arched and I knew in a second that my instinct about Sorren had been right all long. Eric was teasing me, calling me a child, and he was just as big and pompous as his jovial Viking pal. I wanted to smack both of them. I didn't think about it, I didn't concentrate, but I sure as hell wanted to hit him. So I took a quick breath, pulled my hands up from my sides like I was throwing a softball, and blasted him.

I didn't see the light. I didn't see the orb travel from my hands. I just saw dark sky and grass as I fell backwards. I looked over and saw Eric laying on his back a few yards away from me. He turned his head and we both smiled, a fiendish and wicked smile. I was on my feet before he was. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but both our prides wouldn't permit such a question. My skin tingled all over and I smelled magic coming off of me like I'd just been sprayed by the perfume lady in Macy's. Dermot was beaming, the ever-proud teacher.

Eric was facing me now, his body low and hunched in a defensive stance. He wouldn't be taken off guard for a second time. "Again!" he ordered. "Harder, little faery!"

I grinned. _I'll show him a little faery._

I blasted him again, only this time I stayed on my feet and he flew through the air, crashing into the lawn chairs. Dermot and I both ran to him, pulling chairs away and tossing them aside. Eric lay on the ground, his shirt smoldering like he'd been dipped in dry ice.

I leaned over him and saw that his eyes were squeezed shut. He groaned a little. "Eric?"

Then he smiled and propped himself onto his elbows. "Again."

Four hours later, I fell face first onto my bed.

We'd practiced until my adrenaline surge wore off and I just couldn't stand for another moment longer. At first, Eric simply stood there and let me hit him, but then he stared to move around and come at me so I could learn how to hit a moving target. It was a strange moment in my life, that's for sure. We looked like a life-size carnival game. It really wasn't that different from practicing with my shotgun, only I'd never used a vampire for shooting practice before.

While I was physically and mentally spent, the whole process seemed to invigorate Eric. He laughed happily as he ducked and rolled away from my orbs, and took them like a man when I actually hit him. And so it went for hours, until my aim was greatly improved and Dermot seemed satisfied with my progress. I think I did better than any of us thought I would. Well, maybe they knew I could do it, but I had serious doubts after I soaked my shoes a few more times.

As Dermot gave me a kiss goodnight, I felt my body nearly collapse against his. Stick me with a fork, I was done. Eric helped me inside and ended up carrying me to my bedroom.

I felt my sneakers being slipped off, then my socks. My pants were peeled down and the cold air clung to my sweaty skin. My shirt, tank top, and bra flew over my head and were quickly replaced with a gauzy nightgown.

"You're not doing a very good job of seducing me," I mumbled into the pillow.

"You're not doing a very good job of staying conscious," Eric replied.

I flopped over, pulling the nightgown down to cover my panties and saw Eric standing at the end of the bed. I was feeling the exact opposite of sexy, being jelly-limbed and covered in sweat. Yet as I laid there watching Eric slowly undress, for my benefit of course, I couldn't help but stare at his body with a lazy smile. Wearing nothing but his grey Calvin Kleins, he climbed into the bed next to me and covered us both with my yellow flowered comforter. Pulling me into the crook of his chest and arm, I snuggled against his cool skin and exhaled a contented sigh. He pulled my tattered ponytail out and ran his fingers through my damp hair, sending a sweet shiver down my neck.

"I'm gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that," I purred.

"You're going to fall asleep anyway," he chuckled, lightly kissing the back of my shoulder. "It's alright, lover. You need your rest, you've earned it."

There was so much I needed to talk to him about, and I had no idea when we'd get the chance. If we'd get the chance. I was dying to ask him about things like that farm house on the island and the necklace he'd given me in my dream, and he had some serious explaining to do about Elsa the Wonder Cat. Unfortunately, I didn't have the brain power left to hold a meaningful conversation at that moment.

"What about Freyja?" I asked, half-heartedly trying to sit up.

He eased me back into his arms, abating my worries with another sweet kiss. "Already tucked into the closet with a book. Claude has gallantly volunteered to sit watch until the sun comes up."

He referred to the hidey hole under the floor in the guest room, a place where Eric had spent many a day snoozing away. Since its modest beginnings as a dirt hole that Bill used to sleep in, Eric had made some improvements. It was still just a hole under the closet, but it was now finished and filled with cushions and a bookshelf.

"That's awfully nice of him," I remarked, closing my eyes for just a second.

"Indeed. I'd hate to think he has ulterior motives."

"Oh, I'm sure he does." I forced my eyes open, feeling sleep about to sweep over me. "What about you?"

"There's plenty of room for Freyja and I to share." He wrapped his arm around my waist and turned me over to face him. "I'll stay with you while I can."

"But aren't you hungry?" I gently tugged on his chin and curled my arm behind his neck, feeling the fresh, baby soft skin that had become my new favorite part of his body.

"I find myself sated ever since Niall healed me," he said, breathing in deeply. "It's a remarkable feeling. Similar to what I feel after I drink from you."

I pouted, because I was always able to give a good pout, no matter how tired I was. "Oh."

A smile curled on his lips and he gave he a scolding look. "Lover, I took too much the last time. It would be unwise to drink from you so soon."

"Eric," I said, finding one last burst of fight within me. "You would've died."

"You're probably right, and I appreciate every last drop."

"But now you're full?" I sighed, looking away with mock sadness.

He raised one eyebrow, tracing a vein down the side of my neck. "You're taunting me."

"I would never do that." I pushed my body closer to his and gave him a little wiggle in just the right place. He sighed, closing his eyes and using every ounce of will power I knew he had. "I wouldn't want you to do something against your will," I whispered.

"Like hell," he growled, jutting his hips back against mine. "I'm trying to be the responsible one right now."

"Oh fine," I said, turning away from him. "It could be our last night on Earth together, but if you'd rather just cuddle-"

He was on top of me then, his body locking me against the mattress. "Do not make jokes like that, Sookie."

"I'm not joking," I said quickly, staring up into his sapphire eyes. "I won't let it end like this."

"All things come to an end, lover."

I sighed and looked over his shoulder. I hated it when he got all pragmatic and sensible like that. Maybe in a thousand years, I'd have his patience too. "Our bond isn't so strong anymore. I can barely feel you," I said in a soft, sad voice.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Too much blood had been taken from both of us."

"Well, I don't care if you don't need it," I said. "Just take it. It's yours already."

His hair fell down over his forehead and he suddenly looked like a rakish boy in need of a trim. As I reached up and took a lock between my fingers, Eric's fangs slowly slid down. He rubbed his cheek against the inside of my wrist and inhaled deeply. I closed my eyes, readying myself for the pain that was always mingled with the undeniable pleasure of having blood taken from my body. But instead of feeling Eric's fangs sink into my wrist, I felt his body shift. I opened my eyes to see him biting into his own wrist.

"Our bond will be permanent," he warned. "Nothing will separate us but death."

All I could do was nod.

I watched as his blood welled and slowly started to drip down his arm. Before I over thought the death part of his statement, and before it dripped all over me, I opened my mouth and caught the blood with my tongue. We locked eyes and I clamped down on his wrist with my teeth. This was a new thing for me, but when I saw the immediate pleasure on his face, the look of love and adoration in his eyes, I knew I was doing something right. I gave it all I was worth. I bit down hard and sucked until the wound healed itself.

Eric's blood didn't taste terrible to me, unlike any other blood I'd had the misfortune of sampling. It was deep and heavy on my tongue, like port wine, but with just a added touch of earthy saltiness. It slid down my throat and I could actually feel it absorbing into every inch of my body. I could almost see it, glowing in my fingertips and down to my toes. It was like taking a part of Eric's life into me. How could I have never gotten that? Why was I only feeling this now? It was like a switch had suddenly been flicked on. No wonder people got addicted to the stuff.

"Oh, my goodness," I gasped, licking my lips. I waved my fingers in front of my eyes, staring in wonder. "You're inside of me, Eric."

"Not yet."

I felt my panties being ripped apart, then he pushed hard into me. Before I could scream out, his fangs were in my neck. I felt a sharp thrust of pain, and then the bliss set in. Like waves of delight, it washed over me as Eric drank from my neck and drove into my body simultaneously. I was lost in it for a few seconds, helpless to what I was feeling from all angles. I just laid under him and held on tight, wanting to moan or scream but not finding the air to push out any sound. Then I found my body responding to the rhythm and I curled my legs around his calves.

I grabbed him by the hair and he looked up at me. I was never an overtly sexual person before I met Eric, but I swear, that man did something to me. I was feeling all kinds of naughty. I wished I knew how to talk dirty, but of course, I didn't.

It didn't matter though. We didn't speak, and our eyes never closed, even as I felt his fingers slide between my legs and caress me. Even as I cried out and arched my back, thrusting my breasts against his chest. He pulled himself up and sat me down on his lap, yanking my pointless nightie off and tossing it across the room. I locked my legs behind him and watched as he took my breasts into his mouth one at a time. He bit down into my nipple and I let out a little yelp. I held his head against my chest as he licked the blood clean, tracing circles with the soft tip of his tongue until the mark healed.

I pushed down onto him again and again, using every ounce of strength I'd gained from his blood. When he wrapped his arms around my back, I could feel his muscles tensing. He grabbed my waist and shoved me down even harder, causing a wonderfully high note to soar out of my mouth. That was a new spot, holy cow. I threw my head back at the same instant he cried out something I couldn't understand. The climax took us together and I giggled ecstatically. (That wasn't just a vampire thing - that was a me and Eric thing.)

Our bodies slowed down and we tumbled onto the pillows, arms and legs still twisted together. Eric pulled me closer and we laid there, breathing heavily on each other's skin. He kissed me, and I could taste my blood in his mouth.

"_Min fru_," he whispered against my lips.

"You bet your ass I am," I replied.

_**Soooooooo, tell me all! What did you think of that? Do I have a future career in romance writing, or was it a burning tailspin? And btw, "min fru" means "my wife."**_

_**I'm already into the next chapter, one of the last, and it's by far the hardest one I've had to write so far. Climaxes ARE HARD! I'm procrastinating, not even gonna lie. I'm gonna miss writing this little fic. I'm hoping to have it ready sometime next year. ;)**_

_**Anyhoo, thanks to everyone for reading so far. I want to wish all of you a happy holiday season. May your loved ones bring you as much joy as your kind words bring to me every day.**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**A\N: Sorry this took so long you guys. We had some major home owner issues after New Year's and my life has been a terror. (Living with in-laws for a month, AHHHHHHH.) We had some very unexpected renovations to do and I've been away from my computer since my last update. The horror, I know. I've made this chapter extra long as a mea culpa and I truly hope you enjoy it. I've missed all of your kind words and cool insights. ;)**_

**Chapter Eighteen**

All we could do was wait.

I slept for a good six hours, which was more than I expected to get. It was a restless sleep though, broken up by terrifying dreams. I watched all of my friends being pulled apart into pieces or fried by the sun. And just before I woke up, I saw a vampire version of myself staking Eric through the heart, because Marcus told me to.

Part of my brain just wouldn't let me rest until this thing was done.

I was the only one up, which was a relief. I couldn't be bothered making conversation with anyone while in my current mood. I took my time showering and dressing, trying not to think certain things, but thinking them anyway. _This could be my last shower, _or _this could be the outfit I die in. _I used the good soap and body oil, then slathered myself with scented lotion. I put on a carefully chosen pink sweater set and drawstring khakis. I even took the time to paint my toes and put on a dab of make-up. I was pretty as a picture, but the person in the mirror stared back at me with empty eyes.

I set out to make myself a big breakfast, even though it was well past lunchtime. I put on the country station and smiled when I heard my favorite Luke Bryan song - there was something about those good ol' boys in Nashville that could always brighten my mood a bit. I sang along and shook it like a country girl all around the kitchen, happy to have a momentary distraction. I ended up cooking enough for three people, just in case Dermot or Claude should happen to stumble out when the smell of frying protein wafted into their bedrooms. But no one came, so I sat down with a giant cup of light and sweet coffee to eat three scrambled eggs, extra crispy bacon, and toast loaded with butter and jelly. I assumed I wouldn't find to time to eat again later, so I made it count and tried not to think of it as my last meal. But I did anyway.

I've never been a fatalist, quite the opposite in fact. I've always tried to keep a sunny perspective on life, because the alternative - wallowing in my own misery and becoming a shut-in - was unacceptable. Yet as I sat there, forcing myself to eat rather than actually bothering to enjoy the food, I couldn't help thinking about how I'd gotten to this place. And the more I thought about it, the further my shoulders slumped. Finally, with both my stomach and my head full, I pushed the plate away with a grunt.

It all stemmed from Eric. He was the strongest person I knew, and I'd seen him nearly die and suffer a mild breakdown in the same day. He would never admit to it or speak of it again, but I knew the second I saw him in those chains that he was a goner. If we hadn't shown up, he surely would've died that night. And I would've too, if our bond held true. If Marcus could do that to Eric, there was no telling how the rest of us would fare by the time this battle was over.

Marcus had the upper hand, and we all knew it. He made sure we knew it. He wasn't in love with one of us, he had no emotional ties to any of us, he did not share a blood line with any of us. These were all things that connected us and made us weaker, because we'd all end up doing something stupid to save one another. I knew I would put myself before each and every one of them, if forced to make a choice, and that in itself made me weak. I had always been the weakest link.

Well, wasn't that a slap across the proverbial face.

The phone rang around three, and I knew it was Sam. The lunch rush would've died down by then, and I was sure that the supernatural grapevine had let him know about the rumble going down on Hummingbird Lane. I settled onto my Gran's phone stool in the kitchen, right next to the pad and hanging pencil. I'd long since updated the rotary wall-mounted phone with a cordless, but old habits die hard.

"Hey Sam."

"Hey Sook."

I didn't have time to waste on the preliminaries. "Before you ask, I'm fine. We're all just fine."

"Right now you are. After sunset, I'm not so sure," he said.

I let out a short sigh. "So you've heard then."

"Alcide came in."

Of course he did, that damn Alcide. Always trying to impress me, always missing the mark. "Well, spill it. How much you know?"

"All of it," he replied. "I'm coming there, as soon as Terry gets in."

"No, you're not," I insisted.

"Mind's made up, Sook. You guys need all the help you can get."

"Not your help."

He sort of chuckled. "I'm coming whether you want me to or not."

"Sam, he knows everything about me," I referred to Marcus, knowing he'd understand. "He'll kill you just to spite me."

"I'm willing to risk that."

"Well, I'm sure as hell not."

"Damn it, Sookie," he said, anger building in his voice. "You don't get to make all the decisions."

I was on the verge of crying, again, but I just didn't care. "No!" I snapped back. "I couldn't bare it if something happened to you."

"I'm not gonna -"

"You might and you know it," I said quickly. "Now, you listen to me, Sam Merlotte. There are very few things I have left to control at this moment. You living or dying is one of them. I'm not gonna let you get hurt on my account. Jannalynne would never forgive me."

"I don't care about Jannalynne, I care about you."

Uh, what now?

I heard a heavy sigh on the other end if the line, and I could just picture him running his hands through his messy curls. "Damn it, girl," he grumbled.

I held my breath, hoping to God that he would just let the moment go. The last thing I needed was to get into a sticky conversation about his feelings for me. There were no heartfelt words I could say that would change any of it. At the end of the day, I would still love Eric and Marcus was still gonna try to kill us. Sam declaring his love, or whatever I was to him, was just gonna make everything that much more complicated. Though I had to admit, there was a very small, very selfish part of me that wanted nothing more than for Sam to love me. Being with Sam would be as close to normal as I would ever get, and I couldn't just ignore that possibility. Maybe it was more like a curiosity than anything else. Either way, I would never forgive myself if I let him get dragged into this whole mess.

"I have to see you." His voice was softer now, and sounding a little desperate.

I glanced out the window. It was an very overcast day, which meant the vampires would all be waking up early. Eric would be rising any minute. Bill, and the others who'd slept at his house for close proximity, soon after. "You can't, Sam."

"If anything happen to you, I'll kill Eric myself."

And he meant it.

"I'll be sure to pass along the message," I said. "Really, Sam, all this worrying is for nothing. We'll be fine. Alcide was just running his mouth again."

"Yeah." He accepted the lie I'd just told without question, for once.

"I'll come by Merlotte's tomorrow, okay?" I said, trying like hell to put some sunshine in my voice. "We'll fix up my schedule and I'll tell you all about my trip."

"Yeah, okay."

I didn't want to hang up, but there was nothing left to say. "I'll be seeing you soon, okay?"

"Okay. Wait, Sookie?"

"Yeah?" _Oh, God, please don't say it. Please don't say it._

"You know that I...it's just that I worry about you."

I smiled a bit, despite myself, and shook my head. "Yeah, I worry about you too."

"I worry about you a lot."

"I know you do, and I'm sorry about that. I'll try to be a better friend from now on, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he sighed.

"Bye, Sam."

"Bye, cher."

I hung up the phone and just sat there for a few minutes, my feet dangling a few inches off the ground. I didn't want those to be the last words I ever said to Sam, but I wasn't into sappy good-byes, especially over the phone. I promised myself then and there to have a real conversation with Sam about our relationship when I saw him next. Fortunately enough, I was too distracted to worry about what the exact content of that conversation would be.

On a whim, I picked up the phone again and dialed Jason's number. No answer, as usual, just voicemail.

"Hey, Jase. I'm back from my trip, just thought I'd give you a call." I searched my brain for the right words to say, because I didn't want him cowboying up and charging over here either. If I said anything too sentimental, it would immediately clue him off that something was up. Even Jason would get that message. So I went with something simple. "Anyway, I sorta miss you, haven't seen you in a while. Just call me when you get a chance, okay?"

That would give me good week before he even thought about calling me back.

Eric joined me soon after, in as somber a mood as I've ever seen. Less than an hour later Pam, Sorren, and Bill showed up. I heated up some True Bloods for them, knowing it wasn't going to be enough, but they didn't have a choice. They'd all fed the night before. If they left for even a few minutes to hunt in the woods, it could be all the time Marcus needed to take me, or worse. Even after showing Eric what I was capable of the night before, I was still the weak one.

The sunset came and went. A bundle of weapons, identical to the one we'd taken on the plane, was stashed on the front porch. We didn't discuss what would happen or make a battle plan, though I'm sure Sorren was bristling to do it. Because really, what was the point? The vamps wouldn't need weapons, and I doubted any of us would have time to get into a duffel bag of guns and stakes in time. It was just there to make me feel better. So we all sat around the kitchen table, quiet as a still river, drinking coffee and synthetic blood.

Without prelude, Freyja bounded down the stairs, Claude and Dermot two steps behind her. I saw the look on her face, and I knew. We all stood up at once.

"He's awake," she blurted out. "He's coming."

"They'd fly into West Monroe," Bill said. "New Orleans is too far of a drive."

"It's over three hundred miles, of course they'll fly," I agreed, looking to Eric for assurance. "We have time."

Freyja shook her head. "No, he's not that far away. I can feel it, he's close."

"How close?" Eric asked.

Pam's phone rang. She quickly dug it out of her pocket and looked at the number. Flashing a pensive glance to Eric, she turned her back and answered it. "Speak . . . For what purpose? . . . How long ago? . . . No, we need eyes there . . . Exactly like I told you."

She looked to Eric, all business. "Victor just stopped at the club and took Heidi."

"But that's impossible," I said to Bill, panic rising in my voice. "You said-"

"They must've traveled during the day," he replied dismissively. He looked annoyed, probably for not thinking of it himself. "They have help."

"Maxwell said they left two humans and a were at the club," Pam said.

"Then he doesn't want anyone following them," Sorren suggested.

Eric shook his head. "No, Marcus doesn't need help from anyone, but I'm sure he would've left the details up to Victor." Then he looked to Freyja and gave her exactly a second to answer his questioning stare.

She sighed, and I saw a mixture of dread and determination on her face. Whatever she was going to tell us, whatever secrets she was about to divulge, would cost her dearly. "He wants to face you alone. The rest of us are expendable. He'll let us fight with whoever he brings until it's just you and him left."

"Then why get Heidi?" Dermot asked, having met her once or twice and knowing she wasn't particularly strong or potentially helpful in a battle. But I knew the instant Pam said her name why they would bring her.

"To track someone," I said. Eric turned to me and I had a flash of the dream - me as a vampire, staking Eric. "He still wants to turn me."

Eric smiled lightly. "He can try."

Bill stepped between us and protectively grasped me by the arm. "We need to get you out of here. You'll stay at my place until they're distracted, then-"

"That's exactly what they want us to do, you idiot," Pam snapped.

"I'm not going anywhere," I tried to twist away, but Eric grabbed Bill's wrist before I could get free. I could feel the pressure on Bill's flesh, could see the skin budging under Eric's fingers. When he finally let go of me, Eric stepped closer to Bill and looked down at him with menacing eyes.

"Touch her again and you'll have to grow back another arm," Eric seethed. "She stays."

Bill raised his arm between them, even as Eric held fast. I've seen Eric pull arms off, it's not pretty. Yet Bill didn't waiver, didn't even blink. Normally when the two of them fought like dogs in heat, I would pull them apart and send them to their separate corners, but something told me to keep my mouth shut this time. I needed to see Eric do this. After what happened between us the night before, Bill needed to know that he couldn't put his hands on me like that anymore.

Luckily for Bill, Pam was thinking more rationally than the rest of us. She stepped between them and snapped, "Put away the rulers, boys. We've got more important thing to worry about right now." She gave a quick shove to Bill, who flicked out his fangs in silent protest. For Eric though, who deserved a gentler nudge, she lightly pressed her palm on his stomach and he immediately backed off. This was obviously not her first rodeo.

"Now is not the time to start quarreling amongst ourselves," Sorren said, more diplomatically.

I looked to Dermot and Claude. "You need to get out of here. There's no use in you getting hurt too."

"I think Niall would disagree." That was all Dermot said, and I frowned. Neither one of them moved and I knew the decision had already been made.

"She'll track us just as easy as she would you," Claude said matter-of-factly.

He was right, of course. There was no point to them hiding, just as there was no point in me running. If they wanted us, they'd find us eventually.

Suddenly, we were all silent. I looked at each of them in turn and then, one by one, we all turned to Eric. There was a wild fire lit in his eyes as he once again assumed command of his troops. My Eric - the brutal, ruthless Viking version of the man I'd come to love - was back for good.

"Let it be done then," he said.

He swung the front door open and we followed him down the porch steps and onto the lawn. It was dark out, even for a night looked over by a full moon. The cloudy sky snuffed out all of the natural light and we were consumed in shadows and shallow illumination from the house lights. We assembled shoulder to shoulder, Eric and Bill flanking me, with Dermot and Claude standing directly behind me. I would've never let them stand in front of me, and was silently grateful that everyone respected my girl power with no protest. Sorren and Pam stood on the other side of Eric, while Freyja stayed on the porch. I wasn't sure to make of that, but I could hardly blame her. If Marcus was my maker, I'd want to stay away from him too.

Now, the drive from Shreveport took a normal person about forty minutes. I knew from experience that a vamp in a sports car could make the drive in less than half that time. Right on queue, two shiny black Escalades rolled up my driveway.

Out of the first one came a vampire I didn't know, but he was big and set my faery senses tingling. Another old one, Günter perhaps? Heidi climbed out of the back seat like it was on fire, then Victor slid out the other side and I understood why. He looked every bit the snake as I remembered. Smug grin, perfectly coiffed hair, and an expensive suit that he managed to make look cheap. His eyes honed in on me the second his foot hit the ground, but what worried me more was the other car. Out came Sergius, carefree and cool as ever. He opened the back door like a visiting dignitary had arrived. Marcus stepped out, wearing a gray suit and a pair of dark sunglasses. However, they couldn't hide the fact that his usual flippant smile had been replaced by a veil of anger.

Marcus was obviously not used to being one-upped by the likes of me.

I did that horrible mental math that every solider must do heading into battle. We seemed to be at an advantage, as their five lined up before our seven. While Dermot, Claude, and I could hardly contend with Sergius or Marcus, I felt confident that our combined magic would be enough to take down Heidi or Victor.

We all stood there, facing each other like we were at the OK Corral. I wondered if Eric and Marcus would exchange some witty banter before someone made the first move. I was surprised when it was Heidi who jumped into action. She charged me, seemingly possessed with crazy and senseless anger. Why was she so mad at me?

Pam pushed her off easily enough, as Bill and Dermot stepped in front of me. Heidi went sprawling down onto the blacktop, flipping head over feet and landing on her face. Victor chuckled as she stood up and came at me again. I looked at him over Bill's shoulder, watching him waggle his eyebrows, and something clicked inside me. Homicidal rage. I was going to kill him and I was going to enjoy it.

Since Victor had her securely placed in his back pocket, I couldn't say I knew Heidi too well. She had a messed up human life and an even more messed up afterlife, so I had some sympathy for her. But I couldn't explain her sudden aggression toward me. She swiped at me again and Pam clothes-lined her.

"I want the girl alive," Marcus sneered. "She can do her job or be eliminated."

Heidi whimpered under Pam's restraint, bloody tears running down onto her cheeks. She looked at me when she quietly wept, "He has my son."

"Control yourself, Heidi," Victor said, but his eyes stayed on me. He watched as I put the pieces together.

She was being forced. She was there to keep me prisoner, to protect me until Marcus could get his hands on me. And she would damn well do as she was told if it meant preserving the life of her only child. Under the circumstances, even I could understand that. At that moment, she was just as dangerous as any one of those other vamps.

A smile curled on Victor's lips. I wanted to rip his face clean off.

Someone had to throw the first punch, so I decided it was gonna be me. I summoned as much energy as I could, in that brief second where no one was paying attention to my hands, and I hurled it directly at Victor's face. He flew back twenty feet, his feet dragging against the driveway, and fell in a heap against his car door. With a groan, he slowly stood up and glared at me with hooded eyes and extended fangs.

For a few seconds, all they could do was stare at me, eyes wide and mouths open. I thought I heard Marcus laugh. Then there was chaos all around me. I couldn't watch as Eric and Marcus hurled themselves through the air and collided with fangs and fists unfurled, or as Sorren and Sergius clamped onto each other like sumo wrestlers. I couldn't take my eyes off of Victor, who was now slowly walking my way.

"Keep her off me!" I yelled as I ran toward the open space of the lawn. Bill leapt in front of me and intersected Heidi. He tackled her and they both went down, rolling around like gators across the grass as Victor closed the space between us.

"You've been practicing," Victor said.

I heard Pam scream, but could only flick my eyes for an instant to see her finger being ripped off by Günter. Victor stood only feet away from me, huddled in a defensive stance. I summoned a small orb and shot it into his chest, just to back him off. He was prepared for it, and jumped back to his feet a few seconds after falling to his knees. After the night before, I knew I'd burn out fast. I had to pace myself.

He shook it off too easily, coming toward me faster now. He looked exhilarated in fact. "Did your grandfather teach you how to beg for your life?"

I hit him again, his fingers inches away from my neck. He didn't even fall backwards this time, he just braced himself and grunted when the energy hit him.

Dermot popped up next to me, his hands at the ready with his own glowing orb. "Focus, Sookie," he demanded in a level voice.

"I can't," I replied, shaking my arms out a bit. Another blink over to the driveway and I saw Marcus grabbing Eric by the shoulders and flipping him onto the ground.

Victor looked over his shoulder and shook his head with a tisk. "Ooo, it looks like your husband is a little out of his league."

"Shut up," I snapped.

"Ignore him. Let go of your anger," Dermot said, hitting Victor with a large blue flash. He went down this time and Dermot turned to face me. Victor tried to laugh, but ended up clenching his arms around his middle and coughing violently.

I ignored him, because I was suddenly completely distracted. As the remnants of my magic swirled all around us, a memory flashed before my eyes - the moment I was attacked on the front porch. Eric said he'd smelled two things - Victor, and magic. I realized, as the adrenaline buzz faded out through my fingers, it was my magic that had hung in the air that night.

"Why didn't you kill me?" I challenged, stalking over to Victor. He laughed , struggling to his feet. When he didn't answer me, I turned to Dermot. "Hit him again."

"Sookie-"

"Hit him again!" I screamed, and Dermot threw another orb into his chest. "What happened that night?" He merely glared at me, smoke rising from the fabric of his suit. "Again!"

Dermot extended his hands, looking more like the Emperor in Star Wars than my uncle. Finally, his eyes widened with fear and Victor held a defensive hand out to me. "Alright, wait," he rasped, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. "Marcus wanted to test your magic, see if you were worth turning or keeping alive."

"And?" I asked, disgusted.

"He wasn't that impressed, although I enjoyed the experience immensely." Then he smiled and I knew what he would've done to me if I hadn't shocked him. I could see the unmasked thirst on his face, the perverse glint in his eyes.

"We'll see about that," I spat through gritted teeth.

I hit him with all I was worth, which turned out to be enough to lob him into the forked branches of a nearby magnolia tree. I held my hand out to the tree in the same instant that Dermot stood next to me and hit Victor with another stream of energy. He was effectively trapped there, stuck like a magnet to the fridge, but only inches from the ground.

It took him a second to realize what I meant to do with the broken branch now resting firmly in my grasp. He reached for my face, clawing the crap out of my cheek and nose in the process. I knew he had no problem going out like a coward and there was no time to waste on monologuing . He went wild flailing his arms and legs, snapping his fangs, trying anything to get out of my uncle's hold. I lifted the branch over my head with both hands and drove it through Victor's heart. His body went limp for only an instant before it dissolved into a lumpy, bloodied pile.

"Fuck you," I grumbled. I threw the branch down with a soggy thwack.

Bill and Heidi, who were flipping around on the lawn only feet away, both stopped wrestling and looked up at me. Heidi gasped, then simply gave in to Bill's clamping hands. They stood up and Heidi stared down at the mound that had once been her master, her captor. She cried again, only this time I knew they were tears of relief. Joy was something I didn't think she'd feel ever again, but maybe something akin to it spread over her face.

"Run," I whispered to her, and she did. She silently slid into the woods without looking back. I had no idea where she would go but I'd at least given her a head start.

I felt a sudden jolt of pain radiating through my chest, but it wasn't my own. I turned just in time to see Eric's collar bones being crushed, then both of shoulders were dislocated. He fell to his knees and let out a guttural scream of agony, just as Marcus kneeled down and ripped out the side of his neck. A geyser of dark blood spewed out, covering Marcus from head to chest in crimson splatters. One at a time, Eric wouldn't have a problem overcoming these injuries, but all together - I had no idea. And, I knew that if Marcus could get Eric on his knees that quickly, he was surely holding back.

I had to get to that bag on the porch.

I ran, or I tried to. My legs left like sponges and I realized just how much energy I'd used. I was dizzy and overcome with nausea as I trudged forward, willing my body to move. Like a scene playing in slow motion, I saw the others around me continue to fight. Bill was now using his own body to shield Pam from Günter as Dermot struggled to get her off the ground. Sorren was using some crazy ass Matrix-looking martial arts on Sergius, who was beginning to resemble a bloodied prize fighter.

As I finally climbed up the porch stairs, my eyes searched for the bag. I nearly tripped over my cousin - he was sprawled out next to my feet, his hands just clinging to the strap of the weapons bag. The side of his face was bleeding and he was unconscious. Freyja was curled up in a ball a few feet away, her body flattened and hidden in between a table and the screen wall.

"Freyja?" I said, like I was calling a frightened child. Her eyes blinked wildly and it took her moment to find me. When I crept down to her level and reached out for the bag, the movement got her attention.

"Marcus made me do it," she whispered. "He'll kill us all." Then she looked down to Claude's prone form and muffled a cry with her hand. "He tried to protect me."

I reached down and felt for a pulse on Claude's neck. It was weak and slow, but there none the less. "He's alive, but don't move him," I said.

"He was my friend," she sputtered. "He let me - I shouldn't have."

"Shouldn't have what?" She bit down on her bottom lip and then sort of shrugged, looking suspiciously guilty. "Wait, you fed on him?" I cried out, then immediately lowered my voice to a outraged whisper. "What's wrong with you?"

"He wanted me to!"

"What?"

"When we went out last night. He couldn't find the donor so he just told me to do it," she pleaded. "I didn't hurt him, Sookie."

"Alright, forget it, just get a grip," I hissed. I didn't have time to fret over the ever-obtuse thought patterns of my cousin. "Your father needs you."

Freyja vehemently shook her head, squeezing even closer to the wall and nearly disappearing all together. I cursed under my breath and began to rummage through the duffel. My hand found its way around a stake and a handgun. Whether it had wooden bullets was unknown, but I couldn't imagine getting close enough to use the stake on Marcus myself, so I shoved the stake down the front of my pants and flipped the gun's safety lever off.

When I stood up, Marcus was standing at the bottom of the stairs, like he'd been politely waiting for me to finish my conversation. He casually folded his sunglasses and slipped them into his breast pocket. I looked behind him and saw Eric arranged in an unnatural position near his feet, but the fact that Eric wasn't just a pile of goo meant he was still alive. I raised the gun with a badly quivering hand and quickly added the other hand to the grip. The shaking didn't stop and I barely trusted my aim as it was.

Marcus chuckled and looked almost sympathetic. As sympathetic as he could look covered in my boyfriend's blood. "Dearest Sookie. You didn't need such a pedestrian weapon to dispatch with Victor, now did you?"

I didn't say anything. I just concentrated on steadying my hands and looked from his eyes as I felt as strong mental pull. He was trying to glamour me again and I'd be damned if he was going to be the first vamp to actually pull it off.

"Tricky, tricky," he tisked. Then he gave a careless shrug of his shoulders. "It's alright, really. I was going to get rid of him myself when this was all sorted out, but you managed the task brilliantly. So why the gun?" he asked, wiggling his fingers toward me. "All juiced out, is that it?"

"Wooden bullets," I said, monotoned.

"Ah," he grinned. "Wooden bullets. Interesting little weapon, very Van Helsing. But, let me ask you something, love. Even if you were able to actually hit me just right, what if I moved faster? What if I'm older than the tree those bullets came from? Would it still work?"

With my lips pressed together in a thin line, I tried not to let my mind wander. "They worked fine on your pals in the cave," I managed to say with as much swagger as I could muster.

A single eyebrow cocked as he took in that info. Then he let out a loud guffaw and smacked his thigh. A few of the tussling vamps lifted a head to see what the big joke was. "My, my, Miss Stackhouse. You are proving to be a bit more entertaining than I'd predicted. You know, I've been watching your big barbarian for quite some time and I've seen all his whores come and go. But I'll tell you, none of them hold a candle to you."

"Yeah, that means a lot coming from you."

My threat was obviously being overlooked, or it just wasn't threatening enough. Of course he didn't give a damn about those vamps, he didn't even care that I'd just kabobed one of his own kids. And he didn't seem to give a damn about the facts those vamps could've told me. Any number of juicy personal details, weaknesses, whatever. This guy's ego just wouldn't allow for that kind of concern.

"As I told you, my intent all along was to turn you. I've been in the market for a new protégé for a while now, and you'll do nicely, once I've thoroughly broken you in of course. But after seeing that little display, I'm truly on the fence. Do I keep you alive and have my own fae sidekick? What I could do with you - why, it's just mind boggling. All the while, trying to resist that scent of yours, that delectable mix of sunshine and spun sugar and magic. Just thinking about the possibilities is driving me wild."

"I'd rather die first," I said, disgust dripping from each word.

"Which leads me to my next point," he said, nodding as if we were actually having a chat about the weather or the next mayoral race. "I wouldn't stand or you running away at every turn. The only way you'd ever submit to me is if I was your maker."

"I'd never submit to you, Marcus. Ever." I lifted the gun a little higher and my grip miraculously steadied itself. If I was going to shoot the bastard, the heart was my only option. Anything else would just piss him off, and I was doing much better with him not being pissed off at the moment.

"But I think you would. Wouldn't she, Freyja dear?"

I looked over my shoulder, to see Freyja standing a few feet away from me. I knew that she was pumped full of faery blood and was probably feeling jacked as a linebacker, and yet she looked scared and frail, like she'd fall over if I blew on her too hard.

"It's not as if I ever had a choice," she replied, her voice meek and her head lowered. She was still showing submission, despite her strong words.

Marcus shrugged. "True enough, but we had some good times."

"No, we didn't," she said quickly. "You left me alone all the time. You made me kill every friend I ever had."

"I never heard you complain while you were eating them," he snapped, his voice lifting with anger. But only slightly. The second after he said it, the rage on his face was gone, replaced with a smile befitting Hannibal Lecter. "Get in the car," he said.

"No."

His eyes narrowed. "Fine. Stand there and watch me flay your father. How delightful for you."

I snuck a glance down at Eric, who still resembled a corpse. His neck was healing before my eyes, but there was an obscene amount of blood spilled onto the pavement and he remained unresponsive. His brain seemed to be on pause, because I wasn't getting much from him other than a sleeping vibe. I tried to push every ounce of terror and dread I was feeling toward him, knowing that anything resembling panic or fear would illicit the quickest response from him. Eric couldn't hear my thoughts any better than I could hear his, but if our bond was as strong as he said it was going to be, he damn well might hear me.

_Eric, get up. He's gonna kill you. He's gonna turn me._

A man's scream ruptured the air. I looked to Sergius, who'd just ripped Sorren's beard clean off in one fistful, along with most of the flesh from the bottom of his face. Taking advantage of Sorren's momentary distraction, Sergius pummeled him with stiff-handed chops to the neck and head until Sorren fell to his knees. My heart thumped wildly as my eyes kept flicking back to Marcus, just in case he moved on me. Sergius pulled both of Sorren's arms behind his back and wrenched his head up.

"Fierce warrior, eh?" Sergius teased to anyone who was listening.

"_Ditt fostra knullade din heder bort," _Sorren managed to mumble through his disfigured mouth.

Sergius looked up at Marcus and they both shared a light chuckle. Sergius leaned down and whispered something in Sorren's ear then, and Sorren quickly pulled his head away, spitting blood onto the other vampire's shoes. Sergius gave him another brutal whack to the side of his neck and Sorren fell to the ground, only to be lifted up and restrained again.

"You see?" Marcus cried out, pointing to Sergius. "You see that? He does what he's told." He smiled like a proud poppa at Sergius and said, "Finish him and retrieve Freyja so we can leave this insufferable place."

_Eric, wake up for chrissake!_

Sorren didn't beg for mercy or scream. He just fixed his eyes on mine and asked for silent forgiveness as he hung against Sergius's hold on him. Tears fell onto my face and I shook my head. I knew I was about to watch my friend die. I hadn't worried about Sorren. My breaking heart told me how stupid that was. I made one of those dangerous, foolish assumptions that he'd simply be okay. He'd fight them all with one hand tied behind his back and then laugh about it with Eric.

Sergius raised his hand high in the air. I wanted to close my eyes because I couldn't stand to watch, but someone needed to bear witness to the end of this man's life. He'd made his own choices, just as every vampire I'd ever met did, but I couldn't help feeling responsible for his end. He gave me a quick nod and a wink, as if to lighten my burden, then came the sickening sound of flesh and bone tearing. Sorren's head was unceremoniously tossed into a petunia patch, rolling over and over again until his long blond hair matted to the blood covering his face.

I felt Pam's anguished wail cut through me like a white-hot blade. She rushed toward Sorren's fallen body and didn't even seem to care when Sergius caught her by the neck and held onto her with a lose choke hold. She just stared down him, watching him slowly decompose before her eyes. I knew Pam, she would normally be looking to pop off Sergius' in return for such an act, not cry over a fallen friend. Pam didn't have time for the luxury of grief, even if others around her did. The fact that she was just standing there worried me. A lot.

And still, Eric was not moving.

I aimed the gun at Sergius on instinct. He killed my friend, now he had his grip on Pam. I had no idea how many bullets were in the gun but I wanted to end him very badly.

Marcus put himself in between me and Sergius, fangs snapped into place. "Don't even think about it."

I turned the gun back toward him in one swift arc. I would've shot him then and there and Eric's honor be damned, only Freyja stepped between us. She slipped her tiny body in front of mine and held her chin high in the air.

"Get out of the way," he hissed, each word long and over pronounced.

"No."

"I'll snap you like a twig."

"You'll do that anyway," she said. "Only you'll have to actually do it first before I let you touch her."

It's hard to describe the range of emotions I saw on his face, being that he was psychotic. The anger quickly melted away to show a glimpse of betrayal, only to be replaced by amusement. These seemed to be the three big ones with Marcus. He smiled and shook his head at her adoringly.

"You would side with her, of all people, over me?" he asked.

"Especially over you," was her steely reply.

"Her, the one whom he chooses above all others, above his own flesh and blood?"

"Marcus, he searched for me for hundreds of years before she was even born," Freyja said, taking a brave, yet measured step forward. "You can't lie to me anymore. I will not be a prisoner to your version of history."

"And what do you think will happen to you now? Will she adopt you? Will you braid each other's hair and talk about boys?"

"I would rather stay here with them than spend another second with you."

His eyebrows inched up and he crossed his arms, truly invested in the moment now. "Really? And who here is going to pay for your Prada and Channel, Freyja? Will she keep you in swim models, or were you planning on switching to True Blood?"

"In a thousand years, I have never made a choice of my own. I've known more freedom in these two days than I have ever known with you."

The smile never wavered from his lips, and I knew he was playing with her, mocking her and dragging the scene out for his perverse pleasure. "I will not tolerate another one of your tantrums."

"I am not a child!" she screamed all at once. Her voice was filled with passion and wrath, despite its girlish timbre.

"Then stop acting like one," he snapped back, finally showing some annoyance. "Enough nonsense. Bring her down here and let's be done with this."

"No, we're doing this my way."

"You don't have a way! You Viking piece of mongrel trash!" His words echoed against the trees around the yard and came back to us again. "Kill her now. As your maker -"

Freyja held her hand up in the air, as if to block the very meaning of the words he was about to say. "Marcus," she warned, "I will leave you, and you will have nothing. Nothing but your vengeance to keep you company. I will spend every day for the rest of my life fighting you, and I swear to _my gods _- you will have your back turned to me one of those days."

The smile returned to his face, and he looked at her like she'd just taken a bite from the apple. "I command you."

I sucked in a shallow breath, one of my last it seemed. I watched the back of Freyja's head shudder as she willed her body not to move. Slowly I backed up and slowly Freyja turned her head toward me. A bloody tear collected under each eye until they shook loose and fell onto her face. Her gaze flicked to my neck as her fangs extended with a soft _click. _I swallowed and took a useless, meager step backward.

A loud growl distracted me from the taste of bile rising in my throat. Another growl, and then a low rumbling sound half way between a purr and a snarl. Then a voice, barely understandable through a mouthful of teeth.

"Sookie."

We all turned toward the voice, even Marcus. Standing on the lawn behind him were two copious wolves, their teeth bared and dripping with saliva. There was a man-like creature, covered with thick black fur and wearing a pair of blue jeans. And next to him was a lion, something that was bound to strike a note of fear in any Roman's heart. I smiled at the enormous beast, despite my palpitating heart, and it proudly shook his shaggy mane. The full moon sat heavy in the sky behind him and reflected off his gleaming eyes.

Never have I been more happy that the men in my life don't ever listen to a word I say.

_**Gotta love a cliffie, boys and girls. Whoever could these mysterious beasts be? ;) I know that it's a horrific place to end the chapter, but it's dangerously close to becoming epic. TBC...**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**A\N: Okay, so I'm super psyched to hear how much you guys liked the last update. Sorry this took so long, I'll spare you all the details of my mundane suck-fest of a life lately. I'll admit, killing off Sorren was a tough move, and I thought good and hard about it for a while. Ultimately though, a battle with a bunch of ancient vamps would have casualties on both sides and I couldn't stand the thought of killing off one of CH's main characters. (Realism in a fantasy fanfic is sort of an oxymoron, but you get the idea.) Anyhoo, I was gonna make this two chapters, but I figured ya'll have waited long enough. Here's the finale, part deux. **_

_**As always, I tip my hat to the grand dame of storytelling, Miss Charlaine Harris.**_

**Chapter Nineteen**

No one moved. The only sound to be heard was the steady breathing of the creatures now standing between Marcus and I. Even the organic noises of the woods seemed to quiet down in their presence.

One of the wolves, a dark beast of mutant proportions, rested a padded foot on Eric's chest and bared his teeth. A low rumble rolled in his throat - a possessive gesture to be sure. It was Alcide, I recognized his fur and the shape of his muzzle. There was no love lost between him and Eric, but it became clear real quick, if there'd been any doubt, whose side he was on.

The other wolf, a light gray color and only slightly smaller than Alcide, seemed to stare directly at me. I could never mistake Jannalynn's eyes, especially when she looked at me like that. I wondered if she was there as pack enforcer and backup for Alcide, or if she had insisted on coming when she heard who else was coming along. My guess rested on the second choice.

The vampires all stood at attention. Even Pam, who'd been kneeling before the battered remains of her slain Viking, slid to her feet and took a pensive stance. Sergius and Gunter began to slowly circle around the perimeter like hungry sharks, trying to get closer to Marcus. One step too many, and Jannalynn snapped furiously at Sergius's hand.

The lion did not move. He stood perfectly still, his murderous eyes locked on Marcus. The giant cat licked his long teeth and then let out a roar that I felt in my chest. Sam seemed to have a shorter temper as a feline than he did as a human. Freyja stepped backward and bumped into me. She glanced up and I saw that her fangs had retracted and she looked like a scared kid again. How easy it was for me to forget that she had almost just killed me, looking into the face of a child.

"Don't worry," I whispered with a wink and a quick squeeze of her arm. "He's with me."

The creature with the panther face nimbled up the porch step, his sharp claws clicking against the boards as he went. He came to stand next to me, and Freyja snuggled even closer. He seemed to purr and I had to resist the urge to reach up and scratch him behind his ear. I'd never seen Jason transformed before, but I acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world to associate with a werepather, two werewolves, and a shape shifter who happened to be my boss. Well, I guess it sort of was.

"Sam," Jason managed to say. His words were hard to understand through his misshapen lips and enlarged canine teeth. His eyes had taken on more of a feline shape, but were the same shade of blue.

I knew what he meant well enough. Sam's idea. I nodded and said, "I figured as much."

I felt a soft rub against my calf. I looked down and saw Elsa the cat staring up at me with those unmistakably intelligent eyes. She turned to Marcus and let out a loud hiss, her back arching and ears flattening. Marcus's eyes widened with fear, like my tiny cat with a little faery blood was finally enough to scare him. It was only when he looked to me, when all eyes were on me, that Eric moved.

In one seamless motion of his body, he was on his knees, crouched like a tiger about to pounce. I felt pride surge through my body, though I kept my eyes locked on Marcus. Maybe the others noticed Eric as well, but no one said a thing. We were all still for just a moment.

I let myself smile. "Sick 'em, boys."

What happened next was a blur of blood, fangs, and fur.

Jannalynn went for the closest moving target with such tenacity, it shocked even me. She brought Gunter down hard and chewed off the bottom of his face before he was even able to take a swing on her. Once his eyes were gone, it was easy enough to go for his neck. His hands found their way up to her ears and eyes, desperately trying to pull or poke out anything he could. A foot slammed down on Gunter's crotch, and Bill grinned as Jannalynn chewed through Gunter's neck until it was lopping to the side, attached by a few strands of leftover skin.

Pam charged Sergius at the same time, uttering a vengeful scream as she rammed into him. He was ready for the attack and laughed in the face of her anger. He hadn't however, accounted for the wolf creeping up behind him. Alcide jumped up and gripped Sergius around his neck as Pam slid a long, silver dagger from Sorren's belt. It glittered as she turned it in the moonlight with a satisfied smile. I heard him scream as the knife disappeared to the hilt into his chest.

My attention quickly went back to Marcus, who was still standing in front of me. The fear on his face was slowly fading back into rage as the screams of his last hope, his last remaining children, filled the night air. When Sam finally advanced on him, I knew Marcus would try to tear him apart. Sam pawed at him from the side, pushing him onto the grass. Marcus quickly recovered and gave Sam a sturdy kick to the head.

Sam's shook his head a few times but charged at Marcus again anyway, this time leaping up to clamp onto his shoulder. With paws firmly wrapped around his chest, Sam dragged Marcus down. They rolled around the lawn and bounced off the front steps a few times before I couldn't take it anymore. Sam was not a were, therefore not inclined to have superhuman strength. Sure, he was a lion at the moment, but I wasn't sure how a lion would measure up to an ancient Roman vampire. Marcus had probably watched lions getting slaughtered by gladiators while he was eating his breakfast.

Sam let out a load yowl as Marcus pulled out a clump of his mane and snapped at his exposed neck. Without hesitation, I raised my hands and threw whatever energy I had left directly into Marcus's back. His body withered as though he'd just been whipped and it gave Sam enough time to limp away.

Marcus let out a deafening scream that caused Freyja to shake in my arms. There was blood trickling out of his ears and nose, and his hair was sticking straight up like he'd been electrocuted. He turned toward me and I felt like I was getting stared down by a Halloween mask.

"You!" he screamed, frothing like a rabid animal. "What is it about _you_?"

That's not the first time I'd been asked that question, but the answer hardly seemed to matter at the moment. Turning around in a circle, he noticed a few things - The remains of his last defenders were quickly dissolving, a circle of enemies were slowly closing around him, and Eric wasn't on the ground anymore.

Before he could turn around, a bloody branch exploded through his abdomen from behind. He hissed and snapped his fangs, but it was too late. Eric had a hold of his neck as Bill held firm to the branch from behind. It was the same branch that I'd staked Victor with. Alcide clamped onto one of his thighs and Jannalynn and Sam each held onto a wrist between their teeth. He was very effectively trapped.

The weight of his attackers was too much and Marcus was brought down to his knees. Eric leaned down over his face, beaten and blood splattered. There was an intensity on his face that I had never seen before, a look that I could only imagine was the face he wore into battle. He raised a smaller branch that fit into his hand and let it rest in the air before Marcus's eyes.

Eric did not raise his voice, yet the hatred in his words was unmistakable. _"Memento qui corde._ _Qui me complevit illud."_

Eric raised the stake high in the air, arced it wide, then slammed down into Marcus. He exploded into a shower of blood and entrails just the same as Victor, and in the end, was just another stain on my driveway.

And like that it was done.

Dermot was on the porch in a flash, helping my wounded cousin to his feet. When Freyja saw Claude rubbing his forehead and grunting with displeasure, she let out a long, heavy sigh of relief. Maybe because my cousin was okay, and maybe because of something else. I felt her small body leaning against mine and our arms wrapped around each other softly. Eric looked up at us on the porch - one blonde holding onto another, one who may or may not have suddenly looked like a mother - and a faint smile crept over his mouth.

Alcide and Jannalynn were already standing by the edge of the lawn, ready to finish with this task and get on with their full moon hunting. Sam joined them, licking his wounds and shaking his battered head. Jannalynn rubbed her snout up and down Sam's golden shoulder and seemed top point her fuzzy derriere right in my general direction. (I'm sure it was just a coincidence.) Alcide and Eric's eyes met. Eric bowed his head and Alcide returned it with a quick flick of his muzzle. This time, the debt was on the other side of the table for Alcide and Eric knew it.

The three of them waited there, not moving, then Alcide stared up at us. "Jason," I whispered, "I think they're waiting for you, sweetie."

I could see the shock in his eyes. Jason didn't have a pack, not since his ex-wife had died and he'd decided not to have anything to do with those weirdoes over in Hotshot. Sam either for that matter. It was unheard of to be welcomed into a hunt by a were, and by a pack master no less.

"Go," I urged, and I could feel tears welling in my eyes. Jason had really lost his way since his transformation. This moment, even if it never happened again, warmed my heart and gave me a bit of hope for my brother's future.

Jason hopped down the stairs and Elsa the cat ambled down behind him. I reached out and tried to catch her. "Elsa, no!" I followed her out onto the driveway, but Eric held me back.

"She'll be fine," he assured me. I looked up at him with troubled eyes and he took my hand. "Trust me, they'll have to keep up with her."

Elsa and Jason joined the other creatures. They all took one glance back at us, and their eyes got caught in the moonlight. Then, like a strange pack of all their own, they silently disappeared into the trees. It wasn't the first time that a group of supes went hunting on my property and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"Call Maxwell Lee," Eric said to Pam, wasting no time with high fives or pats on the back. "Tell him to send a cleaning crew." Then he looked to me. "I'm going to take a shower."

My eyebrows knitted together, but I nodded. "Okay. I'll be right up."

He took a fleeting look back to the spot where Sorren's body had been, which was now just a pile of clothing and blood. He let out a quick sigh, then went inside without another word.

Later that night, after everyone had retired to separate corners and my driveway had been restored to its former glory, I stood alone in my bedroom. Normally I appreciated these quiet moments after a battle. Actually, I just appreciated not being in the hospital this time around. There was no victory party, and I was glad of it. I couldn't shake the feeling that the biggest struggles were yet to come.

I stared out the window down to the back yard and watched a funeral from another era. Eric placed all of Sorren's belongings into my fire pit with loving care, resting his gleaming _seax _on top. With a squirt of accelerant and the flip of a match, he lit the fire and then stood next to his daughter. They didn't touch or talk. Silently, they watched the flames burn everything down to ashes. And silently, I cried for the both of them.

Some nights later, we laid on the grass in the backyard, gazing up at the sky. It was a particularly clear night and the stars were giving us a spectacular show. Our bodies were lined up so our heads and shoulders touched, but my bare feet just only reached over Eric's knees. I casually rubbed his leg with my toes while he twirled a length of my hair. The silence was consuming and blissful.

"Did the stars look the same back in Viking days?" I asked.

"Mostly," he replied, "Only we had different names for them back then. The names we use now were made up by the Greeks." With a long and muscly arm, he pointed to a certain spot in the sky. "You see the one that looks like the shape of an animal?"

"I guess."

"That's Ursa Major, or the great bear. We called it Odin's Wagon. And right there is the north star, only we called it _leio__̈__arstjarna."_

"How do you know about that stuff?"

He smirked. "I've picked up a thing or two over the years."

I gave him a light swat on the shoulder, but he continued on with his astronomy lesson, tracing figures in the sky with his extended finger. "That V-shaped one over there is Andromeda, and Pegasus is a square with three legs under it."

"What about an easy one like the big dipper?" I asked.

"Oh, it's there. It's the back end of the bear. See?"

I didn't see it, but I nodded anyway. "Um-humm."

He went on and one for a few minutes, pointing out this twinkle and that color, and I simply basked in the moment. It was a rare moment indeed whenever I got a hold onto a tidbit of Eric's real personality. It made me real happy, like he'd just told me a secret without even realizing. History buff, or even weapons expert - those I would get. I would've never guessed space nerd. There was so much I still didn't know about him. Sure, he'd lived lifetimes, but moments like these really impressed that on me.

Thinking of Eric in a renaissance get-up or a Viking helmet, my mind naturally wandered to Sorren. A lot of things over the past few days had made me think about Sorren. Sorren and Eric throwing a few back, Sorren whisking me through the woods to safety, Sorren returning to his life in Sweden after helping out an old friend. I suddenly felt weighed down by the silence of the night, by the lack of people and noise.

After the mess was cleaned and bodies had been pleasantly removed, everyone simply slipped away. Bill went back to whatever he when he wasn't sitting in my woods. I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to really let go of everything that happened between the two of us, but I was pretty sure we were on the road to friendship. Sam had only called me once, and it'd been a quick call. He just wanted to confirm I'd be back at work after the weekend and asked if I was okay. That was it. Talk about awkward. At least he had the good grace not to bring up our last conversation, not over the phone at least. I was sure to get it good the first night we worked alone though. Just as I was getting my purse and saying goodnight, he'd strike. It was his M.O. Well, I'd worry about when I had to.

Pam seemed to be the one most affected by the whole thing, though she'd never admit it. She called in some vacation days and wasn't answering her phones. I think it was a combination of almost losing Eric and then seeing Sorren die before her eyes. I wanted nothing more than to go comfort my friend, but I'd learned a thing or two about Pam over the years, and the first thing was not to crowd her. The second thing was to never point out her weaknesses.

My uncle insisted on continuing with my lessons, now that he'd struck the faery mother load. I spent a few days avoiding him or hiding behind Eric, but I knew he'd peg me down pretty soon. I just didn't want to do it, to be perfectly honest. It was good to know I had a skill and certainly planned on putting it on my next supernatural freak resume, but the bottom line was that I'd killed with my own hands, again, and I refused to rationalize it anymore. I had a body count, and that's not easy to live with, trust me. Did it need to be done? Yes. Could someone else have done it? Yes. Did I enjoy doing it? No comment. (The no comment part is what made me think it wasn't a good idea to further explore my faery powers.)

I must've been quiet for too long, because I realized Eric had stopped talking. He pulled me closer and I snuggled into my spot under his arm. "You're troubled," he said, his voice soft and rumbly in his chest.

I shrugged. "Just thinking too much."

"Now I know there's something wrong."

Eric's jokes were few and far between, and they were usually at my expense. The fact that I ignored that one showed how conflicted I was. "Let me ask you something," I said, propping myself up on an elbow.

"Alright."

"You were, like, obsessed with getting in my pants for years."

"I got in them, didn't I?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, and it only took a witch's curse and amnesia."

"Ouch."

I smiled, but I was being serious. "Bill is still obsessed with me. Alcide rubs me all sorts of wrong ways. And don't even get me started on Sam."

"Get to the point, lover."

"The point is - why am I so special?"

He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. "You still don't know?"

"I'm a nobody waitress from a nobody town. I barely graduated high school. And all of you were willing to give your lives to save me."

"First of all, you don't fool me with all of that self-deprecating nonsense. No one with an attitude like the one you posses would think so little of themselves."

I sighed, because he was right. I wasn't the most confident person, but I was smart enough to know my own self-worth. Gran always said that you had to love yourself or no one else would bother. And for about the millionth time, I wondered what Gran would think of my present situation.

"Second, you did a very brave thing coming to rescue me. You underestimate your ability to affect this world, you always have."

"But Sorren -"

"Sorren and I swore our allegiance to each other hundreds of years ago. That means we are brothers and when you became my wife, you became his sister," Eric said. "Fighting to save our lives gave his death honor. His life was not taken in vain, I promise you that. He is looking down on us from the halls of Valhalla."

I nodded, chewing on my lips. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"On the boat...did you really see the Valkaries?"

"Sookie, I was hallucinating."

"I know, but ...were you ready? Did you really want to let go?"

His brows furrowed and he was quiet, like he was deciding whether or not to tell me the truth. "I did," he admitted. "For a moment, it seemed easier to give up. When I saw your face, I thought an angel had come to finally take me away. When I realized that you where actually there, when I heard your voice, it was almost - a disappointment. But then I felt your arms around me and tasted your blood, and I remembered."

I cleared my throat, but my words still tripped on the way. "Remembered what?"

A wry smile appeared on his face and he turned to look at me. "That Valhalla can wait a little while longer."

Now what can a girl possibly say after a man says something like that to her? Yup, nothing. So I kissed him instead. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down right on top of me. We lay there for some time, kissing and touching all those spots that drove each other crazy. I felt his neck and caressed the soft skin under his hairline. I was used to the short hair by then, but that spot on his neck was still irresistible to me.

Then, somewhere in the back of the responsible part of my brain, I thought of Bill or Bubba sitting out there in the woods. Watching the two of us making out like teenagers on a school night. Ick. Coming up for air, I asked, "So now what?"

"Now," he said, letting out a long sigh, "We wait. The news of Victor's death will surely have reached DeCastro by now."

"I'm surprised they haven't knocked down the door yet."

Propping himself on one elbow, he said, "So am I. But life goes on, so until something happens, I've decided to take some time off."

"You?" I asked, raising my eyebrows skeptically. "Mister vampire-workoholic-can't-leave-my-office-or-put-down-my-cellphone?"

He shrugged. "I haven't had a day off in eight years, I'm overdue. Pam is more than capable, once she's returned from her little hiatus."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"_We _are going to Sweden. There's some lose ends I need to tie up."

I looked up at him wearily. If I never saw an Ikea coffee table ever again, it'd be too soon. But I knew what he meant, even if he wasn't planning on talking about it. He was going to see Gregor's family, I'd bet on it.

"And there's also the business of the house to settle."

"The house?"

"On the island, lover. I own it."

"Oh." The house I wanted to burn off the face of the planet, in other words.

"It was meant to be a wedding gift."

My face softened. "Oh."

"If you'll have it," he added quickly. "I know the circumstances have changed a bit, but my intention is the same. I had it made to -"

"Look like my house times a thousand?" I said with a smile.

"Wait until you see the inside. There's a state-of-the art kitchen and a Jacuzzi big enough for us to swim in. And the master bedroom is the biggest room in the house, since that is where I planned on spending most of our time." The jovial glint in his eyes faded and his face grew somber. "If you'll have it."

I nodded after a moment. "I'll have it."

"Good, then I can give you this." He quickly sat up, pulling out an aged leather jewel box from his back pocket, like he'd planned this moment before I even suggested a gaze at the stars. Inside it was the delicate diamond necklace he'd offered me on the yacht in my dream.

I smiled demurely. "Am I as lovely as Marguerite?"

His eyes narrowed for a second, and I couldn't tell by his look if he was remembering our shared memory or trying to recall whether or not he'd told me that story before. But the moment passed, because maybe it didn't matter.

I sat up and pulled my hair to the side. Eric placed the strand of simply cut yet perfectly clear diamonds around my neck, making sure to touch every inch of exposed flesh he could manage before he slid his fingers away. I touched the center stone with gentle fingertips, taking pleasure in the feeling of it against my skin. I was ignoring the fact that the necklace was not only more than five hundred years old, but also that it was probably worth more than the entire town of Bon Temps. Not to mention that it should've been in a museum instead of around my neck.

"Why are you giving me this?" I gasped.

"Because she told me to give it to a woman who held my heart as strongly as I held hers." He rolled his eyes, adding, "Marguerite was prone to dramatics, but I appreciate the sentiment now."

I smiled and leaned in to plant a warm, wet kiss on his eager lips. We held on to each other for a few seconds before he pulled away and gazed at my neck. "You certainly outshine it. But it isn't exactly something you could wear to Merlotte's every night, now is it?"

"No," I giggled. He must've sensed my relief, because he handed me the leather box with an understanding smile. I'd wear it for a while, but I'd have to take it off before getting into bed.

"That's why I have this for you as well."

In his hand was a small black velvet box. He opened it to reveal the biggest diamond I had ever seen, a single stone set in glowing platinum. Eyebrows high, I sucked in a quick breath and felt my heart beating faster. In the eyes of the supernatural world, we'd been married for almost two years, but I'd never really been proposed to. Vampires don't propose, especially Eric. He was pragmatic and sensible. He was a business man.

He was holding a diamond ring between his fingers.

"It has occurred to me that being a human of southern decent, my wife is deserving of a few things I may have overlooked." He reached out and took my left hand, holding the ring between us. He cleared his throat and muttered with a tiny smile, "I want to get this right."

_He was nervous. _God bless his heart, he really was. He suddenly reminded me of the kind, gentle Eric who'd lost his memory, who laughed whenever he pleased and loved me without a second thought. Perhaps that part of Eric wasn't gone after all.

He quietly cleared his throat. "Sookie, you remind me of what it was like to be human. My life was uncomplicated and I was allowed to...feel. You make me want to feel everything, to discover things that I never thought possible. Our time together in this world is fleeting, and I want to spend it with you. Marry me."

I nodded dumbly and he slipped the perfectly sized ring onto my finger. I marveled at the way it sparkled and how different my simple hand suddenly looked. I'd always made fun of those silly girls that came into the bar, talking with their hands to show off their new rocks. I never thought I'd be one of them.

"You mean, like a real wedding?" I whispered.

"Of course."

"Like with flowers and big dresses and punch bowls?"

"If that's what you want," he smiled indulgently.

"Oh, yes!" I gushed, throwing my arms around his neck. I squeezed him until he laughed and tried to wiggle away, then I planted kisses all over his face until I landed one on his lips. "Oh, I just couldn't love you more," I sighed into his mouth in between kisses.

He grabbed me by the waist and flipped me onto the lawn. Just feeling the weight of his body coming down onto mine was enough to make me quiver and heave my chest. That haze came over his eyes, the one he got when he was hunting someone, or hunting me. I could feel his fangs scraping against my skin as he roughly kissed the side of my neck.

"You will want for nothing. You'll be my queen," he murmured into my ear.

"All I want is you."

"I am yours," he said. "But it comes with a price."

I eyed him, my curiosity piqued. It was the first time that he'd ever said anything like that to me. I'd always been the one handing myself over to him, having to admit that he had some kind of control over me, even if I didn't wholeheartedly mean it. "What price?" I asked.

"This will not be an easy path, for either of us."

"I know."

"I might be punished for what happened to Victor."

"Or you might be promoted."

"Be serious, Sookie."

"I am, jeez," I sighed. "Haven't you ever heard of letting a girl bask for a few minutes?"

"You need to be prepared -"

"Eric, I knew what I was getting into with you a long time ago. A few stamps in my passport and a new super power under my belt isn't gonna change that."

"People will...disapprove of our union."

"Well, let 'em," I said quickly. "You know how many people are married to their cousins in this town?"

"it's not the town's opinion I'm concerned about," he replied darkly.

"You're fretting too much," I said. "Once you're moved in here, I'll be perfectly safe."

An eyebrow arched. "I'm moving in here?"

"If you want me to marry you, you sure are," I said with a sweet smile. He was about to open his mouth when I added, "I'd be willing to compromise, of course. A spare coffin will fit very nicely in the hall closet."

It took him longer than I thought it would for him to realize I was joking. He smiled sheepishly and I gave him a wink.

"Try to keep up, huh?"

He was on me faster than I could laugh and he kissed me until I felt it all the way down to my toes. A thrill sailed through me when I realized it was like kissing him for the first time all over again. I pulled him closer to me, reaching my hands around his chest and under his tee shirt. I wanted to feel his skin get warm, I wanted to watch his cheeks redden as he -

The back porch door creaked opened and slammed shut.

"Eww, please stop that."

We both popped our heads up to see Freyja staring at us. She wore a pair of pink Juicy sweats and had a disgruntled look painted all over her pre-pubescent face.

"Can't you two control yourselves?" she asked, apparently revolted by us.

Eric rolled his eyes and I giggled into his shirt. "Daughter?" he asked, like it was the hundredth time she'd walked in on us. (It was only the forth, but who was counting at that point?)

She held up an empty bottle of True Blood and gave us a forced smile. "We're out of O neg."

"Drink the B positive."

"I'd rather drink the cat," she sneered.

"It's okay," I said, patting him on the chest and officially ringing the time-out bell. "I'll go to Wal-Mart. We need a few things anyway."

He rolled off me with a groan. "To be continued, Mrs. Northman," he called out as I hopped up and strode toward the house.

I snorted out a quick laugh and shook my head. "You're so corny."

Freyja hadn't left the house since the night of the rumble, nor had she spoken to my cousin or uncle. (They packed a few things and went to stay in Monroe. The scent in the house was just too much for Eric to tolerate.) She'd mostly kept to herself. I assumed she was embarrassed over the choices she'd made, but the way I saw it, she didn't really have much of a choice at all. It wasn't her fault she had a shitty foster dad.

We didn't think for a second that she was going to stay. We were prepared to say our goodbyes when the time came and tried not to not pressure her into sticking around. What Eric hadn't been prepared for the moment when she'd crawled into the hidey hole and clung to him like a found orphan. We waited for her to say something, to do anything, but she just puttered around the house and mostly avoided talking about anything of consequence. A day went by, then another, and we stopped waiting for her to disappear and just started living.

One night, Eric returned to the club and Freyja stayed with me. I made dinner, she drank True Blood. I washed dishes, she dried. We didn't do much talking, but I got her to sit down and watch _Thor._ I bought it on one of my lower days, thinking it would help me wallow in my misery, and I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of Viking hotness. I could tell by her smile and arched eyebrows that she appreciated the movie for different reasons than I did (a.k.a. man candy), but the irony of the situation wasn't lost on me. I painted my nails, so she did too. No, we did not braid each other's hair. Eric asked, that smart mouth.

After that we watched a new movie from my man candy collection every night, including _Don Juan DeMarco, The Notebook, _and _The Wedding Planner. _More importantly, we got on with life.

I put on a sweatshirt and gathered up my purse, when she found me by the front door. She had a longing look on her face and her sneakers had been neatly tied. I glanced at her in the reflection of the hall mirror as I fixed my hair and applied some lip gloss. "You need anything else?" I asked.

Leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall, she shrugged. "No."

"You wanna come with?"

She hesitated a good while. "...Umm, no."

I looked thoughtfully at her for a second, then I held out my hand and offered her a set of keys. "You wanna drive? We'll take your daddy's car."

Her eyes widened. "Yes. I mean, will he let us?"

"Oh, sweetie, you seem to be mistaken about who's in charge around here," I said, then I chuckled a little.

She let a small smile creep over her face, then she snatched the keys from me and all but skipped out the front door. It was the moment I needed to officially let myself feel happy. Not happily-ever-after happy, because I wasn't naive and I had two outlaw vampires currently residing in my house. But happy enough to realize that I was lucky for all that I had been given.

I stood in the doorway for a minute, watching Freyja walk around the red Corvette with awe and wonder. Maybe being a wife and stepmom wasn't going to be as hard as I thought. And maybe I'd eat those words pretty quickly, but at that moment, I just didn't care.

"Don't wait up!" I called over my shoulder, and I closed the front door behind me.

**The End**

_**Well, that's it folks. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Many of you have asked for me to write a sequel, and I seem to be having a hard time telling Eric and Sookie to stop talking in my mind, so I've already started it. It's called "To Thee I Dead" and I bet you can't guess what it's about. ;) After reading CH's latest book, it's pretty obvious that she doesn't plan on Eric and Sookie being together, but a girl can still dream, or write fan fics. To be fair to my awesomely devoted readers who waited for a long...long time for these last few chapters, I've decided to write it in one swoop and then update each chapter weekly. **_

_**What do you say - appease the muse one last time! Hit that review button and give Momma some sugar!**_


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